


the sound of thunder roared out a warning

by lieselss



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Flashbacks, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Occasional fluff, Slow Burn, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Team as Family, but also not?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:13:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 38,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22947607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lieselss/pseuds/lieselss
Summary: "Wasn't the whole point that my son didn't end up tortured on some Imperial ship?" Kes asks her.They survive and the war goes on.And on.And on.And on.
Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Shara Bey/Kes Dameron
Comments: 50
Kudos: 88





	1. how much should we give? more more more

Ten paces to the door across the training room mat. She crosses past newly enlisted without a glance in their direction, not betraying the vice snaking its way around her heart and squeezing.

Two minutes down a crowded hallway, past high command where two heads turn to meet each others eyes above the glow of datapads as she clips by, their mouths set in equally hard lines.

Six strides across the hanger to take the weight of a man from an alarmed rookie pilot. Lip busted and bruised, his heads lolls against her shoulder, dark hair matted by blood and sweat against his forehead and hanging over deeply bruised eyes.

One deep breath before the man shifts his head, directing an unfocused gaze in the general direction of her face, a pantomime of a grin stretching painfully across his face. The movement cracks his lip open again.

"Hey, auntie."

A strangled noise, equal parts rage and sorrow, claws from her throat as Poe Dameron collapses in Jyn's arms.

__

She has a shadow. Or a ghost. Certainly someone is invading her space in a way she would never normally allow. But this isn't normal, she's dead and being haunted all at once. Despite everything she's done, all of her mistakes, it seems unfair.

"Jyn," the ghost whispers. The ghost has her dead friend's voice. He was good, he was brave--

He died.

She killed him.

If she could open her eyes she would have closed them again in an attempt to block out the ghost. As it was, she just clenches them tighter and lets unconsciousness take over the job for her.

\--

She must be dead, she'd seen death riding in on the green glow of her father's shame. But the pain in every part of her battered body screams "Alive! Alive! Alive!"

"Jyn." The ghost is speaking again, more firmly than in her memory.

She forces her eyes open to much protest, the regret immediate as the brightness assaults her. Even in her prone position she can see white all around her-- the bedding, the floor, the barest edge of a wall.

A foot appears in the side of her vision, resting on a metal platform. It's not bright white like the room, the sock it wears more muted. Cream, she thinks. The foot speaks.

"Thank the Force, finally. You're alive, you're safe, you're on Hoth..."

The foot has the ghost's voice. She prods her tongue against her lips, her mouth dry. Her brain catches up: Hoth. Ice. White. Why?

"You're in the medbay. They're just changing the bandages-- they said they would be back momentarily but it's been more than a moment..."

The foot with her friend's voice is rambling and she hears it grunt, like it's struggling. Then, clattering as something drops to the floor. She glances toward it, straining her neck slightly as the voice frets about her movement. A mirror. She sees the foot, attached to a knee, and peering over the knee the face of one Bodhi Rook.

The steady beeping in the room grows increasingly rapid. Vaguely, she registers its because of her.

"Patient Rook, our agreement was you could observe not startle Patient Erso."

Mirror Bodhi's face looks sheepish as he turns to the med-droid in apology, the side visibly flecked by small cuts.

Shrapnel, her brain supplies.

The droid makes a sound that could generously be described as a huff, before launching into a brief recitation of facts for her benefit. She makes out severe burns, fractured leg, dislocated knee. Last ship off the beach. Few survivors.

Survivors!

She looks at the mirror on the floor and croaks out to Bodhi, "Rogue?"

She's not sure if she wants to know. Two of them surviving is already a miracle (if they are indeed alive, she's not ruling out a cruel trick of her dying brain). An act of the Force, Chirrut would say.

If she ignores the pain she can almost feel his arms around her, heartbeat hammering. She can hear meditative assurances. _Little sister._

Bodhi has leaned back in the chair, only his foot and knee still visible. His voice is steady- steadier than in all the time she'd known him, but his tone is detached and it's clear she is not the first person he has told this story to.

"I... I kept the engine running. After we patched through the message about the shield to the Alliance I was nearly to the shuttle. A grenade landed -- the throw must have been off, but the explosion," he pauses, inhaling deeply through his nose.

"My leg, the left one, was gone and someone dragged me onto ship into the cockpit and dropped me in pilot's seat. I only remember the pain from the tourniquet, and whoever put me in that chair yelling 'Get us the fuck in the air.' I took off without even closing the hold and circled low, past where Chirrut and Baze--" Bodhi chokes on the words. Repetition had not made it easier. Jyn's eyes shut, as if it would block the words she feared but Bodhi never speaks them aloud, shaking his head and pressing past it.

"We picked up a few stragglers, a couple marines and pathfinders. That's when we saw it-- the... the Death Star. I took off toward the tower even though people were yelling at me to leave. But I had... I had to know for sure..." he pauses with another deep unsteady breath. The _'if you were dead too'_ settles uncomfortably between them.

"We had already spotted you on the beach before it fired," he finishes. The realization dawns that he thought she knew what had happened next. She tries to reach for the memory but nothing. She was loathe to ask but needed to hear the words for sure.

"Bodhi, I don't remember."

He sighs again. Every sigh seems to add years to his face. Jyn counts three deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. "They pulled Cassian off the beach," he says and if possible, her heart clenches even tighter. 

"Apparently you were screaming to get him first. That's what they told me. They went back for you after and the heat reached us ahead of the blast -- you caught the worst of it."

"Cassian?" she manages to whisper.

"He's not -- he's not in good shape. But he's alive," Bodhi promises.

Her heart tears, warring with itself.

Bodhi's alive.

_Little sister. I am one with the Force._

Cassian, alive. The memory of her head on his shoulder, his hand in hers.

_Your father would be proud_.

\--

"Your mother would be proud."

The words are a whisper, softer than she ever gives herself credit for being. Jyn leans forward in the chair she'd chosen to camp out in and gently pushes the hair from Poe's face. _Laughter and a rare breeze cutting through the atmosphere of Yavin IV 'See, I told you, shockingly maternal!'_

She clutches a cup of tea an amused Doctor Kalonia had brought her earlier, with a light-hearted plea to stop terrifying her staff. She'd snorted, as if the web of scars and permanently frown of Major Jyn Erso weren't enough to scare them. Certainly worked well enough on new recruits.

The door to the room slides open.

"General," she says, inclining her head in lieu of standing. Leia wouldn't mind, not if it meant disturbing Poe. The woman in question comes to stand next to Jyn and grasps Poe's hand lightly. Her throat works as if she's searching for words but come up empty. 

Out of the corner of her eye Jyn sees Cassian in the doorway, leaning heavily on the frame. Jyn rests a hand on Leia's shoulder and walks away with a gentle squeeze. She slips out of the room shutting the door behind her. Cassian looks at his feet, avoiding her eyes.

"Jyn," he starts. The rages begins building inside her again. No amount of tea could suppress it.

"Torture, Cassian. _Torture,"_ she hisses through clenched teeth, eyes flashing.

"Jyn, can we please not do this here," he asks. To anyone else his voice was calm and measured. To her, he was begging.

"Please," he repeats. She glares at two nurses who promptly speed up their walk, pretending not to have heard. The rage has fully settled now, in her chest, in the set of her shoulders.

He turns to begin walking and she takes pace next to him, short steps to match his limp. Despite the anger, she reaches out to lightly touch his lower back. The cybernetic vertebrae have not proved as hearty as the spy they were implanted in.

_"Look at the us Jyn, cyborg crew!" Bodhi had crowed, slightly drunk, looping arms around a laughing Luke Skywalker and grumpy Captain Andor._

Cassian enters an empty examination room and settles roughly into a chair. He gestures vaguely toward her. 

"There are few people more dedicated to the resistance than Dameron, you know that. He's not a Stormtrooper," Cassian says, tone biting. Decades later, the accusation still stings him. 

She crosses her arms. "Except the head of intelligence and general who sent him on the Force forsaken mission. He's not an intelligence officer, Cass! He's a pilot, a fighter. He's Poe. He's not like you, he's..."

"Like you?" he finishes, expression softening. She fists her hands in her hair and Cassian stands shakily, gently pulling her hands away. She drops her head to his chest while he traces meaningless design on the back of her neck. Normally the gesture soothes her, today is barely brushes off the anxiety.

"Like his mother. And his father," she corrects and Cassian makes a noise of agreement. Jyn lets her eyes drift shut. _Shockingly maternal. Cyborg Crew. I am one with the Force. Little Sister._

"We were supposed to be done," she says, barely a whisper, muffled by Cassian's jacket. "We were supposed to be past this gods forsaken cycle."

The 'we' sits, undefined, but Cassian understands all the same. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to you all for reading my first foray into this fandom and first fic in a whiiiile!
> 
> After every two chapters with a similar time hopping format, two focusing solely on a singular time period (1 original triology, 1 sequel trilogy). 
> 
> That being said, you know what they say about best laid plans.


	2. a voice of rage and ruin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kes worries. Poe deflects. Cassian faces a choice and Jyn makes a decision.

When Cassian told her she could sit in on the debrief, she'd snarked that it wouldn't be the first time she skipped out on one. He rolled his eyes at her, swinging his legs over the edge of their bed.

"Always such a rebel, Erso," he'd replied drolly, giving a small smile over his shoulder as the door slid shut behind him. 

So, instead she finds herself sitting on the ground in an unoccupied part of the hanger, hidden behind several crates with a frustrated Kes Dameron on the other end of a holocall.

"He's going to be fine Dameron," she promises, wiping a bead of sweat from her temple. D'Qar, for all its strategic benefits, was oppressively humid. Even tucked in the hanger with the artificial breezes from ships and equipment moving in and out Jyn couldn't escape it.

"I mean kriff, how long were we at it? Wasn't the whole point that my son didn't end up," Kes pauses, considers the word 'tortured', bites his cheek and continues instead-- " _shackled_ on some imperial ship?" Kes pivots, unconvinced by her assurance.

"Imperial ship is slightly better than Imperial labor camp," she jokes darkly. 

"Unbelievable" Kes scolds, running a hand through his grey hair. He frowns but there's no bite to his words.

"You know I will do everything in my power to protect him Kes," she says, softening her tone. 

_ "So," Kes starts casually, leaning back in his chair to look over her shoulder see where Poe is running around the yard on his stubby legs, making noises with the toy X-Wing she and Cassian had brought him. _

_ "Kes," Shara warns her husband.  _

_ He ignores her, smiling as he claps his hands together and asks:  _ _ "When do you and Andor start popping out kids?" _

_ The question is directed at Jyn but Kes glances eagerly at Cassian, hoping to get a rise out of the spy. Instead, he merely gets a raised eyebrow over another sip of his drink. _

_ "Popping out? Really, Dameron, is that what I did?" _

_ "Shara of course not! I'm just saying Poe needs friends! Jyn, I'll have you know, can be shockingly maternal," Kes insists. His wife snorts in disbelief, smacking him gently on the back of his head as she walks inside for more drinks. _

_ Jyn gives Kes the Look, the one she learned during her brief stint with intelligence and uses frequently on missions. Kes won’t admit it, but the Look terrifies him. _

_ "Well," Jyn begins, slow and predatory, "Cassian already has a kid so I just don't know if we’re ready for another yet, I’m still getting used to the step mom role you know?"  _

_ Cassian laughs. Kes sputters. _

_ "What?! Bantha shit, Erso!" _

_ "The rebellion just is growing up so fast, one day you're nearly dying the next you're planning out a system of government. You know how they can be at this age." _

_ Kes huffs and throws his hands up, shaking his head, "You know I was really hoping for some deep dark secret-" _

_ He's interrupted by Poe running over crying, his X-Wing held in two pieces.  _

_ "I broked it Aun'ie Jyn I'm sorry!" he wails. Jyn patiently holds out her hand for the pieces and with a quick couple of snaps the toy is good as new. Poe wipes away one last sniffle on the back of his hand and looks up her at her like she's magic.  _

_ "What do you say Poe?" Shara prompts, returning with a pitcher of something violently pink.  _

_ "Thank you!" he says automatically, practically vibrating with excitement. Jyn ruffles his curls. _

_ "Anything for you kid," she promises. Next to her Cassian grins, drawing abstract circles above her knee .  _

_ Kes turns to Shara and gestures wildly at them with both hands. _

_ "See! I told you, shockingly maternal!'" _

"At the very least tell him it wouldn't hurt to call his father every once in a while? When he's not out there saving the Resistance or whatever kids do nowadays," he jokes weakly. For the first time in a long while, a genuine laugh escapes her.

"And what makes you think I'm not the one doing that?"

"Your knees creak now, Erso. We're old. Gotta just accept it."

Jyn rolls her eyes at him and Kes hangs up with a mock salute. Jyn straightens up, frustrated when her left knee does indeed crack at the motion. 

Kriff you, Dameron.

\--

Jyn walks in to see Poe ripping out the IV attached to his hand. He startles when he finally notices her, eyes wide and drops his hand.

"So," Poe says, drawling out the vowels pointedly and looking anywhere else around the room to avoid her gaze. He slowly pulls the edge of the threadbare blanket over his hand and the now detached tube. Once it's mostly covered, Poe finally addresses her directly.

"I heard I called you Auntie."

"You did," she confirms, raising an eyebrow. A grin ghosts Poe's face.

"I'm surprised you didn't smack me for that."

"I would have if you hadn't been half dead in my arms." It comes out harsher than she intends, the conversation with Kes still fresh on her mind. Poe chooses to ignore her tone.

"I wasn't half dead by the time I got to base, I was only half dead when I crash landed a TIE fighter into a desert. By the time you saw me I was only a third dead, at most," he jokes. 

It does not help her mood. 

“I mean, I definitely deserve my own room now. Wouldn’t help recruitment if I woke half the barracks screaming every night,” he tries again. She presses her lips together, beginning to regret not being at the debrief. At the very least, the gallows humor is would not have flown with Leia. At the face Poe sighs and backtracks.

"Oh, come on, Jyn, just ask me.”

“Jokes aren’t an effective coping mechanism,” she says, annoyed.

“That’s rich coming from you—”

“Kriff you, Dameron.”

“— Jyn Erso, paragon of healthy coping strategies.”

“I’m just asking you for a modicum of seriousness I don’t think—“

“HE TORE INTO MY FUCKING HEAD!” Poe roars. His jaw ticks and his eyes burn suddenly with tears. “Is that what you wanted to know? He ripped me apart, plucked the information he wanted easy as you please and left me for dead!”

Jyn collapses into a chair across from him and pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Poe—“

He’s very nearly hyperventilating and she knows this is not the way the debrief had gone.

“I wanted it. Death. In the few minutes after, when I was still in that chair, I would’ve welcomed it,” he gasps back a sob. She doesn’t think he could stop the flood of words and emotion if he tried.

“I couldn’t stop it. I fucking failed my one job.”

“Poe,” she tries again, leaning forward to gently clasp his wrist. When he doesn’t pull away and she tightens her grip. “Look at me.”

He complies, eyes red and angry. He tries to control his breathing, the efforts harsh and rattling.

“We’ve all failed jobs before. It does not make you a failure, it makes you human. And I’m not going to blow smoke up your ass and tell you’ll get over this. But the pain will at least start to dull. And when it crawls back up and you want to scream or blow something up you know I’ll be there,” she promises.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. He releases a long breath. 

They sit in silence for several long minutes. The rattling breaths slow.

"I know you still have questions, Jyn."

“How did you escape?" she asks, not entirely sure she's prepared for the answer. Poe's eyes brighten.

“I found a Bodhi.”

\--

Bodhi had nervously glanced between General Draven and Jyn throughout the debrief. Draven looked as though he would have drawn his blaster and had her executed on the spot for insubordination if Mon Mothma hadn't repeatedly reminded him he was not their superior officer and furthermore, the Alliance didn't summarily execute their allies. Jyn meanwhile, had scowled Draven the entire time.

That was until--

"Han Solo? The smuggler?! Han kriffing Solo is a CAPTAIN in the Rebellion?"

Jyn couldn't help the laughter. Well and truly cackling at the thought of the greatest scoundrel in the galaxy, cowed into the Rebel Alliance by a farm boy and a princess. Bodhi had given her a bemused look that she knew would be followed by many questions later. Even Draven had looked slightly taken aback by her outburst.

The thought is on her mind when Mon Mothma returns that evening, blessedly without Draven. Bodhi had gone for another prosthesis fitting and it appeared the senator decided to use the occasion to corner Jyn alone.

It’s a clear ambush and it sets her on edge. The longing for her truncheons is a reflex although realistically, Jyn had barely graduated to sitting up during the day. The ruin of scabbed and healing skin twists across her back, up her shoulder and her neck, a few tendrils reaching her jaw. Turning her head still causes extreme discomfort. Even the miracle of bacta has its limitations. 

Her anxiety isn't eased when young woman who can't possibly be much older than Jyn herself trails in behind Mon Mothma. She's dressed in all white like the older woman, but sensibly in a warm jacket and vest, her hair braided in a tight crown around her head. She stands regally, much like the senator, and the expression on her face in pleasant and neutral.

But her eyes are angry. A deep righteous anger liable to flare up at any moment.

"Sergeant Erso, thank you again for your cooperation during the debrief despite its," Mon Mothma pauses, a wry grin on her lips, "Intensity," she finishes diplomatically. The young woman snorts, before catching herself and schooling her expression once more. Jyn decides in that moment that she will probably like this woman.

"Allow me to formally introduce Princess Leia Organa of Alderaan--"

So this is the woman who got through Solo's thick skull, she thinks. Then a beat later, her brain connects the dots. 

Alderaan, destroyed before the Alliance received the plans to the Death Star they told her. All of Rogue One's efforts, Baze and Chirrut and Kay gone, all too little too late. Even the destruction of the Death Star at Yavin was a poor balm for the thought of millions of people wiped out. Jyn stares at the princess and thinks she might be sick.

"Your highness, this is Jyn Erso. Sergeant, if she should so choose," Mon Mothma finishes. Organa inclines her head toward Jyn.

"I'm sorry for your losses," the princess says. The condolence seems genuine and the offering is polite but Jyn's anxiety is itching at her throat. She's waiting for... something. For the princess to attack her and cuss her out, her the daughter of the imperial scientist who destroyed an entire planet. For the fire in the princess's eyes to burn her alive.

"I," Jyn begins to respond, her mouth dry. Mon Mothma waits, giving her the space to respond but Jyn can't form the words. The senator pushes forward.

"I meant what we offered you the day we met, Jyn. When you're well enough to go, if you choose, we will find you a ship. If you choose to stay, you will be fully incorporated into the command structure at your current rank once we find you a unit. You'll have three meals a day, usually, and shelter-- as uninviting as our current set up at Hoth may seem," Mon Mothma offers. "We don't expect your answer right away and we won't be throwing you into a blizzard in your state, naturally, but--"

"I'll stay," she interrupts, eyes looking past the senator to the princess who raises a delicate eyebrow. Even Mon Mothma looks surprised despite herself. 

"I want to enlist."

"Very well, I'll let the council know."

Mon Mothma leaves the room in a sweep of white robes. The princess lingers behind.

"I have to confess, based on Draven's stories, I'm a bit surprised," she tells Jyn. Jyn still can't bring herself to meet the woman's eyes.

"It's a chance to get it right this time," Jyn answers honestly. "And I'm realizing I can't do that all myself. Maybe I'm maturing."

Organa laughs, and Jyn's anxiety recedes ever so slightly. "Then we're glad to have you, Sergeant."

 _Welcome home,_ he'd promised.

\--

Draven stares for so long it nearly unnerves him. Cassian feels as though the man is looking through him and it's a reminder that despite his bluster, Davits Draven has been a very good spy for a very long time.

Cassian holds the stare a moment longer, then raises an eyebrow at his commanding officer.

"Don't make me regret not demoting you, Captain," Draven mumbles, breaking his disaffected demeanor. Cassian counts it as a victory in his mental tally.

Yes, Draven is a very good spy but Cassian Andor is a great one. 

Draven narrows his eyes at him and sighs, "So what's different this time, Andor? It's not as if this is your first near-death experience."

"Sir?"

"I've never seen you so spooked," Draven says neutrally but there's the barest hint of genuine concern underlying it.

Cassian can't help the flash of surprise that crosses his face. Point Draven he thinks sullenly.

He crosses his arms, tugging slightly at the few tubes and wires still attached to him. The body language is unnecessarily protective but Draven had already seen through him so what was the point of hiding?

In truth, he hadn't expected to have to consider the question.

When they had reached the beach and Jyn reached for his hand he'd accepted he was going to die. He thinks he should have mourned the more in the moment, or thought about his regrets. But all he can remember is his face in the crook of Jyn's neck, the pulsating kyber crystal between them and in the distance, the green glow as the Death Star fired. 

_"Jyn's staying," Bodhi offers after winning the third sabacc game in a row. He leans forward in his hoverchair to collect the cards on the edge of the bed._

_Cassian feels the knot in his chest relax. "That's good," he responds in what he hopes is a neutral voice._

_Bodhi calls his bluff. "You're allowed to be happy, Cassian."_

The knot that accompanies the mere thought of Jyn however, does not seem like the explanation Draven is looking for or would accept. Cassian shifts, tilting his neck until it cracks. Draven raps his fingers against his crossed arms. Cassian's memory drags up the rest of the Scarif evacuation.

Jyn yelling for him to be taken first. Him screaming, in pain and anger as they dragged him off the beach and his hands scrabbling to hold onto her. The sound of thunder in the distance as the explosion shook the earth. Wrenching his head to look over his shoulder at Jyn stumbling toward the ship, with terror racing behind her.

There's the explanation.

He searches for the word in basic but Festian bubbles up instead. "Death," Cassian says. "It's that presence you know? Sits on the back of your neck?"

The general nods.

"This time he stared me straight in the eye."

"So this has nothing to do with the girl?"

"Erso?"

"Obviously."

"No sir."

"Good. Because _Sergeant Erso_ ," loathing does not even begin to describe Draven's tone, "has decided to enlist in the Alliance and Princess Organa has decided that since the Scarif mission, no matter how unauthorized or poorly executed it may have been, was technically was an intelligence operation Rebel Intel will help decide where to place the remaining members of Rogue One."

"Respectfully, how does this involve me?"

Draven grins, "Because Captain, I am delegating the task to you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my excitement to publish the first chapter of this, I neglected to check any sort of timeline. And apparently I was way off. SO instead of backtracking the whole set up of this story we're powering through because if its gonna be AU might as well commit right?! So please enjoy vague time references from here on out in my attempt to right that ship.
> 
> Headcannon for this chapter is Kes totally taught Poe to call Jyn auntie to bother her and when Jyn decides he's old enough (10, to be exact) to handle it, tells him she'll kick his butt if he keeps calling her that. Until the events of the first chapter, Poe does it exactly once and regrets it immediately.
> 
> Also Poe's dark humor is 100% a terrible mixing of becoming a pilot and growing up around Jyn with the occasional input from Han much to Kes's horror.


	3. a moment's sunlight, fading in the grass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Convalescing, as the good doctor calls it, does not agree with Jyn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the first one that breaks format and is set entirely in the Original Trilogy era. There are still small time jumps, just not decades. The next chapter will be entirely contain in the Sequel Trilogy era and then go back to the switched era narrative.

Pragmatism, Cassian thinks in the dark, is the least sexy of the spy toolkit. Of course, most everything of being an effective spy was less sexy than in a holodrama. Just tedium punctuated by periodic terror. 

He stares at the ceiling of the sparse medbay room, eyes stuck on the faintest beam of yellow light leaking in though a narrow gap in the drawn window and fragmented by the unfinished ceiling. 

It's driving him mad. 

Not for the first time he wishes he could launch his lame body out of bed and fix it himself. And then secure the door properly and position the creaky bed against the wall with the best vantage point. And tuck his smallest blaster within reach under the edge of the mattress. 

He huffs and hits his head against the pillow.

Pragmatic interests were Rebellion interests and Cassian had always been good at convincing himself Rebellions interests were aligned with _his_ interests and when they didn't, well, he was good at compartmentalizing--

Or abandoning everything he'd ever worked for and jumping headlong into a suicide mission.

Jyn will be a great pathfinder. She's quick thinking with a long history of insurgent warfare experience and an alarmingly extensive skill set. 

Not to mention, daring and passionate and reckless.

Dameron will love her, the crazy son of a bantha.

The pathfinders are the pragmatic decision-- the right decision-- and the worst part is Cassian knows it, every instinct is telling him so. It's best for the military readiness of the Alliance and likely is exactly what Draven wanted when he tasked Cassian with making the decision. Shifting the blame to Cassian when Jyn took it badly.

The selfish part of him-- the part that ran off on an unsanctioned mission with the daughter of an Imperial scientist, that had gazed at Jyn in the turbolift and held her on beach-- desperately wants to keep her as close now as she was then. Maybe she wasn't the perfect candidate for intelligence but until the Rebellion has pulled her out of Wobani she'd basically been living years long undercover operation. He could convince Draven to take her on as an intel operative, the general did trust his judgement...

Cassian rubs his temple, feeling embarrassed by his own thoughts. One charged moment on a turbolift, hopped up on adrenaline and endorphins shouldn't outweigh a lifetime of training. It makes him feel impossibly young, and he hasn't been young since his mother last tucked him into bed twenty years ago.

He's not some blushing virgin, undone by holding a girl's hand on the beach.

_"So this has nothing to do with the girl?"_

_"No sir."_

Well, shit.

**\--**

Convalescing, as the good doctor calls it, does not agree with Jyn. 

She's booted from her private room into the medbay's communal recovery space a few days after enlisting and it turns out Mon Mothma was not exaggerating about the base leaving something to be desired. 

The medbay consists of a half-dozen rooms and large cavernous communal space where beds are separated by thin fabric. Jyn's no stranger to sleeping rough, or sharing space-- _cozy_ hadn't really been the Partisan's standard operating procedure.

And not everyone is a complete stranger. Jyn isn't sure if that helps.

"I swear on my mother's grave Sarge, I'm gonna stop rescuing you if it keeps ending in injury," Ruescott Melshi greets her as the medical droid rolls her into her allotted square, flat on her stomach, back exposed to the brisk air seeping under the door to the hall. 

His hands are encased in white gauzy mitts that run up his forearms, the tell-tale pinched, raw skin peeking out by his elbows and he precariously moves his pieces along an analog dejarik board propped on a chair between him and a pilot she doesn't recognize.

"Can't even scratch my own ass like this so no more of that damsel in distress shit, yeah?"

The pilot, a curly haired human woman, chucks one of her pieces at him.

Jyn has knocked people flat on their ass for less but guilt floods her before she can muster up the annoyance. Melshi was just as much a part of Rogue One's mission as her or Bodhi or Cassian. He was injured for her-- her mission, her deadly family legacy. 

The same anxiety that clouded her mind when the princess had expressed condolences rushes back and she finds herself uncharacteristically off-kilter. Really, she's been off-kilter since she was first marched off the ship on Yavin what seems like eons ago. Bodhi offers a nervous smile from his bed in the space next her.

She settles on "Sod off," but there's no bite. Melshi laughs anyway.

**\--**

"Hi."

"Hi"

It's the first Jyn has seen of Cassian since he was dragged away from her off that hellish beach. Rather, it's the first time she is _allowed_ to see Cassian. A benefit of actually enlisting she's told but of course, Bodhi had been drifting between his room and her own for weeks, giving them updates on the other's condition so she's not unconvinced that the restriction wasn't some last petty punishment from Draven.

But finally seeing him with her own eyes he looks-- worn. Nothing like the blazing, broken (beautiful, her mind whispers) man who came after her at the citadel. Cassian's face is gaunt and pale and shadows have settled under his eyes. 

"You look ... okay," she says, staring down at her hands fisted together in her lap.

A forced laugh. "Yeah kept all my injuries internal this time."

This time it's Jyn who snorts despite herself. How fitting, Cassian the spy, keeping his injuries internal. Even on the brink of death betraying nothing to the world around him. And then there's her, former extremist, with a web of burns across her back.

Cassian gaze moves from her face to her chest. "They got it back to you," he says, gesturing at the crystal resting warmly on her neck. She reaches up reflexively to wrap her hand around it.

"Yeah, Bodhi said you had grabbed onto it?"

Cassian's face winces apologetically, "Sorry about that."

"It is easily the least painful thing that happened day."

"Still, not my proudest moment."

Jyn shrugs, "We thought we were dying and then we weren't." Cassian's eyes soften and looks at her with an emotion she can't decipher. She feels naked and exposed and fights the urge to look away, her skin flushed as she returns his gaze. 

"For what its worth I'm glad we're not."

Jyn doesn't trust her voice not to crack and swallows heavily. Force she feels like a karking teenager again-- as much as she'd ever had normal teenage experiences. "Me too," she manages to rasp out. Cassian smiles, a genuine one as far as she can tell, and she fiddles with her necklace a moment longer before building up the resolve. 

When she finally reaches out to lay her hand palm up on the edge of his bed he takes it with the faintest squeeze. 

"I'm glad you're staying," he tells her softly. The tightness in her chest unwinds.

\--

Bodhi has abandoned her. He's been fully discharged from the medbay and put up in the pilots' barracks across the ever expanding frozen wasteland that is Echo base.

He laughs when she complains to him when he visits after his shift in the hanger, mostly directing the new transports that are arriving with increased frequency.

"You still have the Captain and Sergeant Melshi around," he points out to her, sitting on the edge of her bed. His newest prosthetic leans against a chair in the corner of her allotted space. Jyn rolls her eyes-- Bodhi had taken his assignment as flight corporal to heart, even though he hadn't been cleared to fly yet, and will not stop referring to everyone by their rank. Jyn warned him the first time she heard it that if he called her Sarge there would be hell to pay.

"Cassian is recovering from his most recent surgery and his nurses keep kicking me out. And there's only so much of Melshi's extroversion I can handle--"

"I can hear you, Erso!" the sergeant in question shouts from across the way. Bodhi shakes his head ruefully.

"You two will get discharged soon I'm sure and can stop sniping at each other from behind curtains. It's been nearly a month since you enlisted, they have to assign you a unit soon."

Jyn gives a full body shrug and pushes a handful of swabs to the pile between them. Bodhi tsks and shows her his cards, gleefully scooping up his fake winnings. 

"The only good part of you being discharged is getting my ass kicked in sabacc a couple times a week instead of daily. How do you even have a good sabacc face?"

"Maybe yours is just terrible," he suggests. Jyn cocks an eyebrow. Playing sabacc brought out a level of confidence in Bodhi at odds with the twitchy and nervous pilot she'd met on Jedha. Even after saving their lives on Scarif, he still was the most anxious person she knew.

Except when swindling people out of their money, real or not.

Bodhi and her game is interrupted by yelling from the center of the medbay.

"Please begin singing my praises now!" a voice trills. Jyn pushes herself out of bed ignoring the twinge that shoots across her back and pulls back the curtain.

"Dameron I could kiss you," Melshi says to the newcomer, a dark haired man with a long thick beard bundled in a thick parka. The fur trimmed hood reminds her of the one Cassian wore on Jedha.

"If we're being technical Shara dropped it off during her latest pit stop but I carried the prize over the finish line."

"I could kiss Shara then," he amends.

"Watch it," the man, Dameron, warns. Melshi snorts and spots her across the way.

"Erso, we got hooch!"

It's been a minute since she had a drink and after the month they've had they sure as hell deserved one. She nods.

"Incoming," she mutters to Bodhi as she settles back onto the bed. He grins.

"Dameron, Sergeant Jyn Erso and Flight Corporal Bodhi Rook. Erso, Rook, Sergeant Kes Dameron," Melshi says rapid fire, sweeping into the space and plopping down into the chair. "Dameron here is Pathfinders, like me"

"Different squad though, we were off-world when you all ran off to Scarif."

"Probably for the best," Jyn mumbles.

"None of that wallowing pfsaak, Erso. We're alive, we got the plans, Death Star is gone and we," Melshi pauses to uncork the nondescript bottle. Bodhi moves to help but Melshi waves him off with a scarred hand. "Pulling is easy, twisting is the issue. Ah, there. As I was saying, we have some paint thinner they pass off as booze to pass the time. I'll even give you first swig."

Jyn grabs the bottle and eyes the two Pathfinders warily before taking. a long pull, grimacing as she swallows. Bodhi laughs and she smiles despite herself. Force, there was at least one similarity between the Partisans and the Alliance- shit alcohol.

\--

She's a karking idiot. Her face has been burning since the Princess had come to congratulate her on being discharged and her assignment to the Pathfinders.

She slams open the door to his room, heartbeat thrumming in her ears. A complete kriffing idiot. One heated moment in a turbolift was enough to unlearn every lesson she taught herself and throw her lot in with an organization that extorted her, killed her father, refused to have her back when she needed it most but were more than happy to claim her victory as their own when it suited.

She let herself be bought by a warm smile on a handsome face and a promise of home, like some naive child.

He watches her barge in, an inscrutable blank expression on his face.

"You knew," she accuses. Cassian sighs. 

"Jy--"

"No you didn't just know you decided! Weeks ago! Every time I came in this room you knew."

"Yes," he says evenly, "I had an assignment."

"And now that you got your rebellious phase out of your system you decided to just roll over and take it from command?" she spits, crossing her arms tight against her chest and leaning against the wall closest to the exit.

"Damnit Jyn, it's my job!"

"You could have at least had the decency to tell me yourself," she says, anger settling into an even monotony in her voice. "Why bother seeing me every day for the past month? Did you really need to fluff me before you fucked me?"

"Oh kriff off Jyn," Cassians swears, muttering something else in a language she doesn't understand under his breath.

It occurs to her in the moment that she has perhaps over-reacted to the news, that there was a more level-headed approach that could have been taken. And subconsciously, she knows her reaction is exactly why he was abandoning her. But she feels so foolish she wants to vomit, her throat is burning.

"All that 'happy you're staying' was just bantha-shit then?"

"I am happy you're staying!"

"Just to have another person to manipulate for the great glorious Alliance!"

Cassian is running his hand through his hair in frustration, eyes flashing like they had on the ship from Eadu. She should quit while she's ahead but her mouth keeps running.

"And to think I took 'welcome home' to heart."

"To the Rebellion, not to me!. Stop acting like a child," he says coldly. The air rushes out of her lungs as if had taken his rifle and swung it into her stomach instead. She pushes off the wall, hand on the door.

"Right. Glad we got that sorted."

"Jyn, wait," he says and if she didn't know any better it would have sounded like pleading. He's leaning forward on his bed, as far as his back will allow. She ignores him, turning in an about face so sharp it's sure to impress her new commanding officer and storms out the door. She's halfway down the hall when the rest of his sentence reaches her.

"Not _just_ to me."

Her steps slow briefly before she shakes her head and continues down the sterile hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Need a better Star Wars swear for "shit".


	4. a bad moon rising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war returns, slowly, then all at once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second of the single-timeline chapters, this picks up chronologically after the first half of chapter two, after Jyn visits Poe in the medbay.

Jyn doesn't vomit this time, so that's an improvement. As if there were such a thing as _improvement_ with things like this.

Things, plural. In one lifetime. Force.

Connix, eyes puffy and red, jumps when Jyn instead lets off a steady stream of curses in every language she knows. 

\--

"Did you discharge yourself?"

"Would it be bad if I did?"

"Yes," Cassian interrupts without looking up from the report in front of him. Poe stands in front of Leia already dressed in his orange flight suit, helmet tucked under his arm, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He had popped one of the stitches above his eye, blood welling in the cut. Poe hadn't so much asked for permission as forgiveness when he unintentionally ran into the general in the hallway. Leia rolls her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Truly ever single person who raised you was a bad influence. Go on Commander, but I will not hesitate to ground you if I so much sense something is up."

Cassian sees Poe grimace at the thought but the expression passes over the pilot's face quickly and he snaps a cocky salute before sprinting off to the hanger.

"Should you really threaten to hunt him down with the Force right now?" Cassian mutters, too low for the room at large, as the general comes to stand next to him. Leia pins him with a withering look she normally reserves for Solo.

"I know you're smarter than that Andor."

"Opinions are malleable."

"I did not threaten, I issued a warning as his commanding officer. And you know I can't just shut it off, not like he did, especially not now," she adds bitterly. Cassian is saved from having to navigate that particular familial betrayal when Leia continues speaking. "What? Has Erso been whispering her opinions in your ear?"

"Whispering would imply subtlety," Cassian says wryly. Leia snorts.

"So she's still mad I enticed you two back to 'The Cause'?" 

Leia's voice is still bitter and Cassian frowns. Jyn had taken a while to come around fully to the Resistance, and when she did her reasons were similar to those that made her enlist in the Rebellion years before-- belief in a person over belief in a cause. And Leia, for whom The Cause was as essential as air, rankled at that distinction. As a princess and a senator, she had always received praise for her diplomacy and willingness to negotiate. What people tended to ignore was that durasteel spine could just as easily be used to hold a grudge. 

"You know that's not fair," he says severely. "Especially now," he reminds her, echoing her own statement, the shadow of the Hosnian system hanging between them. Cassian knows the general is rarely malicious but on a normal day any encounter with the First Order, usually with the same gaunt brooding cause, is enough to sour her mood.

This is well beyond a normal day.

_"It just-- dissipated, like dust. It was so silent I could almost lie to myself and pretend it was peaceful," she said, sitting down gracefully on the edge of his bed, careful to avoid his injured leg. She kept fidgeting with the medal he had handed back to her, her gaze unfocused on the white wall in front of her._

_"I'm truly sorry, Princess," he said in Alderaanian, "Your father was a good man."_

_Her hands stilled, her response in flat Basic,_ _"I'm not the Princess of anything anymore."_

"Sorry," Leia concedes, jarring him out of the memory. "I know she means well. I'm just distracted today," she says with wave of her hand, as if she could smack away the colossal tragedy that's been at the forefront of everyone's minds. "Back to work then General, I expect that base contingency plan by the end of the week," she says with a neutral smile jumping to her lips, like muscle memory. She sweeps out of Command, and if Cassian closes his eyes he can almost see flowing white robes swishing behind her.

\--

_Cassian hated Yavin's rainy season, which wasn't so much a season than half a standard galactic year. Jyn however never seemed to mind, spending evenings perched in a hammock strung between their bedroom window and the nearest tree, protected by the roof's small overhang. He leaned out the window to pass her a cup of caf, the aggressive consumption of which was a habit neither of them had shaken._

_"How's Kes?"_

_"Fine. I don't think he was ready for an empty nest. At least not one quite so empty."_

_"That's soon," Cassian said, fidgeting with the cord on his wrist. It would be nine years. Jyn stared up through the canopy at the darkening sky.  
_

_"Yeah," she breathes. "I'm going to take him shooting down by the old ranges, take his mind off things. At the very least vent some feelings."_

_"Will Poe come back for it?"_

_"Academy won't let him."_

_"Right."_

_Jyn wriggled out of the hammock, resting her feet on the windowsill. Cassian stepped back, holding out a hand and pulling her back in. She gave him a kiss on the cheek for the trouble before disappearing into the 'fresher._

_"So," she shouted through the open door, "What is is you don't want to tell me."_

_Cassian shifted his weight. It was always uncomfortable being read so easily, even if he wasn't trying to hide anything. Even if Jyn was the only being in the galaxy who could. He considered walking to the door to talk to her face to face but she clearly had made herself scarce for a reason and he wasn't about to test her hot and cold relationship with confrontation now._

_"She's going to do it," he said._

_"Leia?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"I didn't realize things had escalated that much," Jyn said, reappearing in the doorway. Her tone was even but Cassian could hear the accusation -- you didn't tell me._

_"After they found out about her father," he said, trailing off. Jyn rolled her eyes, sinking onto the bed. She laid back, staring at the ceiling_

_"And somehow her brother is still savior of the galaxy. So what's her plan."_

_"The Alliance, or at the very least some shadow military organization. She thinks the NRDF is probably at least as corrupt as the Senate."_

_"Well that comforting."_

_"And she wants me back in Intel."_

_Jyn lurched up to stare at him, "In the field?" she asked, her voice half an octave higher the normal, bleeding with concern. He smiled and stepped into her space, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. She tilted up to look at him and he ran a thumb over the fading scar on her jaw._

_"Not in the field," he promised, "Head of Intelligence. Promotion too."_

_"Oh?"_

_"General Andor, reporting for duty."_

_Jyn gave him an impish look, a downright predatory grin spreading across her face. She grabbed the collar of his shirt, yanking him on top of her. He caught himself with hands on either side of her head for a brief moment before she flipped them over, straddling him. His hands went to her hips, thumbs slipping under the hem of her shirt._

_"Well then General," she whispered in his ear, body stretched out over his. He shivered at the warm breath against his neck. "I believe some congratulations are in order."_

_\--_

Jyn is waiting on the tarmac when the Falcon lands and is engulfed in a wall of fur as Chewbacca disembarks first, hugging her with a growled hello. 

"It's good to see you too, Chewie," she says. He ruffles her hair as he moves past her to see the General. She shouts the only curse she knows in Shyriiwook as she smooths her hair back down and he makes a rude gesture over his shoulder. 

Han spots her as he emerges from the cargo hold and cuts her off with a hand in front of her face before she has a chance to speak.

"It's been a day Jyn and I just need to see my wi-- Leia. The General, whatever I'm supposed to call her now. Can we delay the bantha-shit for five minutes?"

He looks tired, his hair now completely gray. Deep lines crinkle at the corners of his eyes. Shavit, when did they get so old?

"Yeah, yeah," she relents, the half spoken 'wife' not escaping her notice. 

"I'll give you a tip for free though, you're gonna want to actually attend this briefing," he says, flashing her the ghost of his normal shit-eating grin and gesturing at where Poe is talking a stocky young man who is... wearing his jacket?

Poe spots her and waves, heading across the tarmac, a guiding hand on the other man's elbow. He's beat by a whizzing ball of white and orange that weaves through her legs.

"BB glad you're alive, Poe was sure you were a goner," Jyn tells the droid in binary, squatting down to scratch its chassis. BB-8 vibrates excitedly.

"[Sentient: Human / ID: Jyn Erso / Rank: Major] I am not alive as I am a droid but I have returned! [Sentient: Human / ID: Finn] and [Sentient: Human / ID: Rey] rescued me and reunited me with [Best Programmer in the Galaxy: Poe]!" it beeps back rapidly.

"And this would be Finn," Poe says, catching up to his droid. Jyn straightens up, dropping into a loose parade-rest. BB-8 continues zooming in and out between her feet. "Finn, this is Major Erso-- she is not as intimidating as she pretends to be."

Jyn raises an eyebrow at Poe and out of the corner of her eye watches the other man give her a subtle, assessing once over. Checking for threats, and not completely taking Poe at his word then. Smart kid. She turns to him directly, crossing her arms across her chest. "So you're the stormtrooper who sprung Commander Dameron off the Finalizer?"

"Technically Commander Dameron sprung us off the ship, I just opened his cell, ma'am," he says, tacking on the honorific after a beat. "And uh, respectfully, it's ex-stormtrooper, um, ma'am" he adds with a sheepish smile.

"Fair enough. Luckily, we like ex-Imps around here," she assures him, allowing for a small smile. "I expect I'll see you both in command shortly?" she asks, nudging BB-8 gently with the toe of her boot so she can head into the hanger. Poe and Finn both nod.

Halfway to the hanger, she turns slightly over her shoulder and raises her voice over the din of ships moving around the tarmac, "Oh, by the way Commander? Force protect him, but Bodhi didn't have a holodrama star's smile!"

Poe laughs.

\--

Cassian tells himself he's not a little miffed that Han Solo of all people stumbled upon an intelligence gold-mine who had more information than Cassian could have hoped to gather over the course of several months.

It's clear not everyone in the room is comfortable having a _very_ recently ex-stormtrooper briefing them. You didn't want to trust Bodhi's word either, Cassian thinks, and look what lot of good that did everyone. From his position against the wall Cassian can see the man-- Finn, Jyn said Poe _named_ him-- shifting his weight imperceptibly in his boots (black, First Order issue). Across the table, Poe shoots the man a wink over the general's shoulder.

Looking at the schematics of Starkiller Base, Cassian is almost impressed by the fucking audacity of the First Order. Steal everything from a decimated regime including their weapon's fatal flaw. It took effort to so brazenly ignore history.

Because you're so much better heading up a ragtag band of resistance fighters, a remote part of his brain scoffs. The voice in his sounds disconcertingly like Jyn.

"Solo's way older than me and he's going!"

Jyn the person, not the voice in his head, is loudly arguing with the general, who for her part seems disappointed, but not surprised.

"You know what's so great about you, Erso? You're always so consistent," Solo says sarcastically. 

Finn stares wide eyed at the ongoing exchange, clearly bewildered. Cassian can't blame him-- if he had escaped from the First Order and came to the Resistance looking for hope, two middle-aged officers bickering like children wouldn't be what he expected either.

The rivalry, if one could call it that, had been simmering between Jyn and Solo for years, as if there was only room in the for one ex-criminal with a heart of gold and a soft spot for brunette Rebellion devotees. Cassian had almost been flattered in the beginning, before quickly being disabused of that notion.

_"Solo gets his dumb ass frozen in carbonite and gets a promotion," Jyn grumbled, hunched over her meal in the mess hall as if she expected sometime to to have enough of a death wish to swipe it from her. Beside her, Bodhi glared at the stale piece of bread in his hand as if it personally offended him._

_"He did help destroy the Death Star," he offered. Jyn nearly snarled._

_"He wouldn't have had the chance if it wasn't for us. Meanwhile, my reward for spending time in Imp custody and bodily harm on the behalf of the Rebellion is Cassian," she finished, poking a fork in his direction. Bodhi laughed._

_"Well I think that's a pretty good trade off," Cassian muttered._

Leia firmly raps the table with her knuckles."Major Erso will be remaining here and help coordinate the assault," she emphasizes.

Cassian releases the breath he'd been holding. He's never been a believer in the Force and that wasn't about to change but for the briefest of seconds, he thanks it for General Leia Organa as he watches his wife glower across the table, her arms crossed, thumb resting over her chest, where he knows her Kyber crystal is tucked into her shirt. The thought of facing, improbably, another planet-killing weapon without her by his side, or at the very least in his line of sight, bubbles up emotions he does not have time to deal with now.

"Dismissed," Leia barks. The room scatters. Cassian starts toward Jyn but she's already out the door.

_\--_

The general finds her not so secret hiding spot just outside the hanger, leaning against the moss covered wall. 

"You're really going to let Solo get into trouble by himself?" she asks.

"He's not officially a member of the Resistance, I can't order him around."

Jyn raises a doubtful eyebrow.

"He's always been ornery, but I always trust Chewbacca to keep him in line."

"Chewie keeps us all in line I think," Jyn says. She offers Leia her mug, "I swear, just caf."

Leia snorts, waving down the proffered drink and leans back next to Jyn. She digs into her pocket for a moment and pulls out a slim metal case.

"Another thing we can blame on Han," she says guiltily, lighting the cigarette.

_"Didn't take you for a smoker, Princess." Jyn said. The smaller brunette frowned._

_"Blame the nerf-herder. Say what you will but he knows where to find quality product-- Corellia's finest," she responded, sticking the cigarette between her teeth. "Only problem is you can't light them in here so I mostly chew on it," she mumbled, the white stick jumping up and down as she spoke._

_"That's why you got to go for the chewing tobacco, hits the system faster," Kes offered, tucking an extra magazine into his pack. "Speaking of Solo, where is our fearless leader?"_

_"He just promised he'd be here soon," Leia said with a shug._

_Jyn closed her own pack and reached under her poncho to ensure her truncheons were secured to her belt. 'Just in case,' Cassian had said softly, handing them to her the night before._

_"You got your extra yet, Princess?" she asked, gesturing to where Kes was adding a broad vibroblade to his pack._

_"Worst comes to worst, I'll kill them with my fucking poise and sophistication," Leia said dryly_

"Is it wrong that I miss being on the strike team?" Jyn asks. Leia shakes her head.

"No, and I wouldn't believe you if you said you didn't."

"I just knew what I needed to do then, now I don't"

"Now we just sit back and hope."

"I hear rebellions are built on hope."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is the chapter title a little too on the nose? Perhaps. But to be honest I've been writing this piece to mostly classic rock and when it works it works.
> 
> Also I'm re-watching Veep and the Selina Meyer just slipped in there at the end.


	5. troubles will come and they will pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn and Cassian offer advice. Bodhi is fed up with both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to our regularly scheduled switched time frame for a couple more chapters!

"Karking hells Erso I'm not actually a stormtrooper," Melshi exclaims, crossing his arms over his face. She lunges forward, arms raised before aborting the movement and taps him gently with the end of the training staff. He glares at her. She shrugs, spinning the padded weapon in her hands. She misses her truncheons.

"Train like you fight," she says, holding out a hand. He takes it and hops to his feet, rubbing the fused fingers on his left hand.

"Can't we at least go back to blasters? I still have my trigger fingers you know."

"Think of it as diversifying your skill set."

"Crazy fucking Partisan," he mumbles. She tightens her grip on the staff.

"You can't beat up the entire unit because of your personal issues, Sergeant," Kes pipes in from his perch on one of the training mats, holding a chunk of ice he'd knocked out of the wall over his wrist. She'd missed her hit earlier and whacked the plastic of the handle against the bone there.

"I don't have any personal issues," she grits out, squaring up as Melshi returns with a training blaster.

"Sure you don't, that's why you nearly bit off Rook's head when he came by earlier."

"Dameron..." she warns, ducking into a roll at Melshi's first shot. She can feel the skin tug across her shoulder blades, oozing slightly beneath the bandages.

"Sure it has nothing to do with the fact that he said Captain Andor was asking about you. Again."

Jyn swivels her head to look at Kes for a fraction of a second and hears the high pitched beep of a successful blaster hit. 

"Fuck! And you shouldn't be eavesdropping."

"Just looking out for unit cohesion, we have a mission in less than a standard week."

"Are you saying I'm too emotional for this mission?"

Kes, the bastard, _laughs_. "The exact opposite. I'm saying you could at least answer the poor man, he can barely stand up, what are you scared of?"

"I'm not scared of anything, I just know Bodhi has already told him how our training is going and assured him I'm all ready to jump into the fire when Intel says how high," she says caustically.

Bodhi of course would never be so biting. And deep down she knows Cassian's questions stem from her studiously avoiding him since leaving the medbay rather than her preparedness for any mission. She's not so deluded to not recognize that this is a self-inflicted wound, that every day she burns more of the bridge between them but she can't make herself stop. The fight on Eadu was personal but it was business, she could respect that. It was easy to fall back into camaraderie on Scarif, shockingly easy to trust.. But being shunted off to the Pathfinders after everything -- it feels like Lah'mu. It feels like Tamsye Prime. Like abandonment.

"Yeah well get used to it Erso," Kes's laugh draws her out of her self-pity. He throws his shoulders back and deepens his voice to a bellow, "When I say jump you say?"

"How fucking high Sarge!" a dozen voices shout back from across the training gym. Kes grins.

"See? Welcome to the Pathfinders. Now pick up the damn blaster for bit."

\--

When Starkiller base blows, command erupts in cheers. Cassian wants to pass out. 

Jyn had migrated to the back of the room to stand next to him and is gripping his hand hard enough to hurt. Certain no one is paying attention, he pulls her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head. She stiffens beneath him for a fraction of a second, surprised, before wrapping her arms him tightly. They pull apart and he turns his back to the datascreen, leaning against the desk. Jyn copies him, her shoulder to his.

"It's over."

"Yeah," she breathes, eyes fixed on the wall in front of them. He feels like he's in shock, the weight of the past few days finally settling.

"Red and Blue squadrons are en route," Jyn says, as if this was a normal mission debrief. Her voice betrays the illusion.

"That's good, that's good. We'll need all the help we can get for this evac once the General decides where to next."

He regrets the words soon as he says them, his brain operating on autopilot. Jyn sinks to sit on the floor, head between her knees.Command had mostly emptied, the few left milling about quietly. Cassian can hear the celebratory whooping reverberating through base. Victory kids, he thinks with more derision than is probably fair. He already had his destruction celebration thirty years ago and yet here he was. He sits down next to Jyn, back groaning in protest.

"I should have been there," she tells him numbly. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Don't say that! What would you have done?"

"I don't know, something!"

"Han Solo had a mind of is own and there's nothing you could have done to stop him that I'm sure Chewie didn't try," he tells her firmly.

"I know, I know, it's just--" Jyn snorts softly, "No man left behind right?"

Cassian lets out a sound that might be a laugh-- he can still feel himself coming down from the adrenaline of nearly being blown out of the sky for the fourth time in his life and he thinks if he doesn't laugh he's going to cry.

"You gave me so much shit and yet here you are, Pathfinder through and through. Solo would be appalled," he says, truly laughing now. Jyn stares at him, eyes wide like he's gone mad. Maybe he has-- honestly it's about time. Then, he hears the giggle.

Jyn claps a hand over her mouth and looks at him guiltily. But his lips quirk up again and she breaks. The laughter grows hysterical and he's pretty sure Jyn's eyes are tearing over it but the catharsis washes over him and he can't bring himself to care.

\--

Princess Leia shows up to Jyn's first mission briefing late. She walks in briskly, door slamming behind her and stalks up to the podium next to Draven and Senator Mothma. She runs her palms over her vest and takes a deep breathe. Jyn bites the inside of her cheek not to smile when Han Solo is _also_ late to the briefing and scowling when he takes up a position against the wall a few minutes later. 

Her datapad dings and she rushes to silence it before opening the offending message.

From: Dameron, K (Sgt)  
To: Erso, J (Sgt), Melshi, R (Sgt)  
05:23:41 do they think we can't hear them yelling the sound rlly travels over ice

Jyn tries to cover her snort with a cough but not before she receives a glare from Draven. An icon flashes in the corner of the datapad.

From: Melshi, R (Sgt)  
To: Erso, J (Sgt), Dameron, K (Sgt)  
05:24:10 amateur, gotta learn that spy dead face. ask andor, sure he'd help.

Jyn straightens her legs in her seat, kicking the back of the chair in front of her.

From: Melshi, R (Sgt)  
To: Erso, J (Sgt), Dameron, K (Sgt)  
05:24:30 ass.

"Do you have something to share Sergeant Erso?" Draven asks, raising an eyebrow at her. The familiarity of the expression is starting. _So that's where Cassian learned that one_.

"No, sir" she responds, leaning back in her chair. Draven shakes his head and continues but out of the corner of her eye she sees Han Solo lean forward off the wall slightly to look at who was being chastised, his mouth forming a small O of recognition. 

He waits until their team is on their ship and off-world to corner her in the small galley. "So, what happened to Liana Hallick?"

"Got arrested. Lucky break for Han Solo, I hear he owed her a good chunk of money," Jyn reminds him, finally getting a chance to sip her caf. She'd missed out before the briefing and was getting grumpy. 

"Hey what's past is past right? We're both here now aren't we? Gotta say didn't peg you for a Rebellion kinda of girl."

"Could say the same to you."

"I'm not, I'm waiting on my reward.

She shoots him a disbelieving look. "I'll be sure to let the Princess know."

"Oh her highness knows" he says frowning, "But I need to keep these missions running smoothly so don't mess this up for me, yeah?"

"Han, would I ever?"

Famous last words. She should use them more sparingly.

In her defense, she does accomplish the primary mission objective, she just draws a little more attention than they'd like.

"It was a simple smash and grab Erso how do you fuck that up?!" Han yells at her soon as exit atmo.

_That's a lot explosions for two people blending in._

"We got the generator parts!" she shoots back. Half of their team has slipped away, uncomfortable with the brewing fight. The other half were glued to the free entertainment.

"And you nearly bought an entire garrison down on us!"

"Dameron's squad was going to be blown, I was drawing attention away from them!"

"You can't be making decisions without looping me in! It's not just Liana Hallick out there doing whatever the fuck she wants, it's not even Rogue One--"

The slap echoes through the ship. 

His mouth gapes for a moment. "Go cool off, Erso." he says, turning to the cockpit. She doesn't need telling twice.

She's surprised when Melshi is the one to find her in the empty galley, making another cup of caf. She'd been expecting the second dressing down to come from Dameron.

"You weren't wrong you know, but neither was he," he says hopping up on the counter next to her.

"Melsh..."

"Hear me out. You covered Dameron's ass getting out of the junk yard, it was the right call. And Solo bringing up Rogue One was a low blow."

Jyn scoffs and crosses her arms, waiting for him to finish.

"Listen I signed up to go on that mission because it was also the right call and Captain Andor's a good man and I trust him. And he trusts you and that's good enough for me."

Jyn hasn't talked to Cassian in weeks, she's not so sure that's still true.

"But Solo's right, not every mission is some existential threat, sometimes we just gotta put in the work. And I'll keep trusting you but you need to put a little more trust in the team as a unit okay?"

"That was quite the pep talk."

"Jyn," he says exasperated. "Help me out a little."

"Fine, fine. Trust and standard operating procedure from here on out," she promises.

\--

Cassian's heads up that Poe is outside his quarters is two sharp knocks on the door and plea to please be decent before he lets himself in. Cassian looks up from the weapon he's been cleaning. He hasn't need to use the blaster in ages but the muscle memory of servicing it is calming.

"Sure, just let yourself in," he mumbles as Poe plops down on the sole chair in the corner. 

"Jyn's terrorizing the new recruits I knew she wasn't here," Poe offers by way of apology.

"Poor bastards," Cassian says. Combat training had been a condition of Jyn joining-- a way to feel useful, she said-- and her _pièce de résistance_ of training was singling out the largest, most self-assured recruit and knocking them flat on their back in the first thirty seconds of class. Whenever he got the chance Cassian would sneak into the corner just to watch the mood change from apprehension to respect to excitement.

"So what's up?"

Poe looks uncomfortable, "I'm not crazy am I?"

"That's a loaded question"

"I feel guilty."

"About?"

"Finn," Poe says. Cassian looks up, that hadn't really been what he was expecting. Fallout from any of the other crazy shit that had gone down maybe. He was still waiting for Poe to process his time on the Finalizer.

"You care for him," he says as a statement of fact rather than a question. Poe groans, hitting his head against the wall.

"That's stupid right? I barely know the guy, I just.. it's like a bond you know?" he says, gesturing helplessly. Cassian places the blaster down.

"It's not necessarily crazy," he says carefully. 

Poe rarely came to him for advice, usually cornered Jyn instead and the two would snipe at each other until the issue was resolved. Cassian remembers the few times when Poe was younger and he was on Yavin for a change, instead of Chandrila and later, Hosnian Prime, when Poe would sit on the workbench in the shed behind his and Jyn's house and mine him for life advice in between questions about droid mechanics.

_"I'm not gonna ask Dad, it's just gonna make him sad. And Jyn's a terrible pilot. Please Uncle Cass-- I know you were the one who did the calculations on the jump out of Jedha."_

_"Who told you that?"_

_"Dad, Jyn, Bodhi, Senator Organa..."_

_"Isn't the whole point of the academy to teach you these things?"_

_"Yeah but if I know it going in I'll be ahead. And if I'm going to do it I'm going to be the best."_

_"Fine-- a few lessons"_

"I feel like there's a but," Poe says, picking at grease under his nail. 

"But," Cassian concedes, "You had a near death experience which is enough to bond most people together. Whether that bond is friendship or lust," Poe _blushes,_ "Or something else that'll make itself clear eventually. Sometimes it's a combination of those things," he says with a shrug.

Poe hops out of the chair, "I'm just glad I'm not crazy."

Cassian fixes him with a look. "Are you sure there's nothing else?" he asks pointedly. Poe all but bolts for the door.

"Yup!"

\--

Cassian hates physical therapy. But the Princess has decided to make it her personal crusade that he would not be allowed out of analysis and into the field without proper medical clearance and worse, she got Draven to agree to with her. Cassian was beginning to understand how Leia Organa lied to Vader's face and lived to tell the tale. 

So, in an effort to get off this icy hellhole the Alliance called a base, at least temporarily, he went.

Every couple of weeks he ran into Bodhi, who's prosthesis was undergoing constant adjustments. When they found the supplies he was on the list for a proper mechanical limb, or at least they said. Cassian had spent enough years in the Alliance to view any promise of supplies with some skepticism.

"It's fine, really, I don't really need it fly," Bodhi tells him during one of their joint visits. He could have left an hour ago but had stuck around. "They already have me flying some extractions, they appreciate the Imperial protocol knowledge, even if its a little outdated," he says with a smile. The shrapnel scars along the left side of his face ripple when he does so, like scales.

Cassian looks up from the ridiculous balance exercise he's working on, "It's always a relief to have a pilot you can trust, I look forward to flying with you."

"Don't you normally fly your own missions?"

"Sometimes, but they prefer us to have a second, in case something goes wrong."

"And yours was Kay, I'm sorry Cassian, I should've thought..."

"Not something to apologize for Bodhi, and I was serious, I do hope we can work together once I'm cleared for the field."

Bodhi laughs, "Are you sure you're not just excited to back in the field?"

"Busted. I know it's important but Force, analysis is so boring."

"Cassian Andor, man of action. But speaking of being back in the field..." Bodhi starts, feigning nonchalance. He would make a terrible spy. Cassian sighs, knowing where this is heading. 

"Jyn just got back?" he guesses.

"Have you talked to her?"

"No."

"Have you tried?"

"No."

"Have you thought about it?"

"Bodhi!"

Bodhi at least looks apologetic. "I'm just saying, I don't know what happened between you two but you're both doing better now why not--"

"I'm hardly doing better," he says bitterly. Bodhi glares at him.

"You fell dozens of stories and are standing in front of me, I'd say that's better. And to that point, you might as well try to at least mend whatever happened between you before you're cleared for mission and are never on the same base again."

"She doesn't want to mend things."

Bodhi throws his arms up in exasperation, "You're both so kriffing stubborn. Then try for my sake!"

Cassian eyes him warily, "I'll consider it."

"Thank the Force."

\--

Jyn runs into the Jedi girl trying to sneak out of the medbay unnoticed. The girl startles when she notices her.

"I'm uh,"

"It's not a crime to be in the medbay," Jyn tells her, amused. "It's Rey, right?"

The girl nods, eyes running over Jyn's jacket at the rank bars there, eyebrows knit in confusion. Jyn takes pity on her. 

"Call me Jyn," she says, foregoing the rank. The girl has no military experience, it wouldn't mean much to her anyway. She nods her head toward the medbay, "We're lucky you were the one to find Finn and BB-8."

"I don't feel particularly lucky," she admits, fidgeting the fabric of her arm wraps.

"Well, being a hero isn't always all it's cracked up to be," Jyn says with a shrug. 

"I'm not a hero, I just--" Rey looks helplessly at her hands, as if she expects something to leap from her skin. "I want to help but I don't know why Master Skywalker is going to listen to some random scavenger who can tap into the Force, I'm not even a Jedi--"

"The Force doesn't belong to the Jedi," Jyn interrupts forcefully. Rey gives her another startled look. "The most devout man I ever knew never carried a lightsaber, and believed the Force flowed through him until his dying breath. And that saved my life, and many others." Jyn closes her eyes. It's been years since Chirrut's memory invaded her memory, not since Bodhi--

When she opens her eyes Rey fixes her with a strange look.

"Are _you_ force-sensitive?" she asks. Her expression falters slightly, "I'm sorry if that's personal, but you give off the same energy I felt on Takodana," she rambles. Jyn isn't sure what Takodana has to do with it but puts her out of her misery.

"No, definitively no. But," she reaches into the collar of her shirt, grabbing the chain of her crystal, "My mother gave me this before she died."

"Can I?" Rey asks, reaching out a hand. Jyn shrugs.

A smile lights up the girl's face when she touches the crystal, "It's lighter. The saber is so... heavy. Like it's burdened. This is almost the opposite."

Well, unburdened. That's news to her. An announcement rings over the base's PA system and Rey drops the kyber crystal. Jyn tucks it back into her shirt.

"I should probably check-in with General Organa before we leave. Thank you, Jyn," she says, heading down the hall. 

"Rey!" Jyn calls out to her, "May the Force be with you."

\--

After nearly a year, Echo Base finally has a fully functioning hanger. The majority of the pilots have officially arrived and the Rebellion has had a string of successes.

So naturally, Shara Bey has organized chaos.

"Andor! You grumpy old bastard you came!" she trills, curls bouncing around her flushed face, a cup of something foul smelling in her hand.

"He forced me," Cassian says, leaning heavily on a crutch, pointing to where Bodhi had already migrated toward a group of pilots at the center of the makeshift cantina. 

"I knew I liked him for a reason, he's a good kid," Shara says, pulling her scarf tighter around her neck. The cantina was not much more that an empty carved out room deep inside base and it was freezing, despite the two large heaters that had been dragged in. Cassian was grateful his parka had made it from Yavin to Hoth.

"He could make friends with a durasteel wall," he says shaking his head, watching Bodhi talk animatedly with his hands. 

Shara steps closer and places a hand on his arm. He fights the urge to shake it off -- Shara has always been alarmingly tactile with everyone and though most people didn't mind-- in her own words, 'It spooks the spooks'.

"Just try to have some fun, okay?" she asks, schooling her face to an expression she probably thinks is more serious than its coming across.

"I'll try."

"Promise me!" she says poking his chest. She yelps as someone wraps their arms around her shoulders.

"What's she making you promise this time?" Kes Dameron asks, handing him a bottle over Shara's head.

"Thanks-- and to have fun."

"Damn Shar, keep the expectations realistic."

"Promise me!"

"I promise," he says with a dramatic sigh. Shara seems pleased and turns toward the throng of people in the center of the room, dragging her boyfriend behind her. 

Cassian settles on a gear box near the roughly stacked slab of ice Wedge Antilles has declared a bar and assigned himself acting bartender. His back is on fire. He finishes the drink Dameron handed him-- it's disgusting, but any little bit helps-- and moves to get another. Antilles waves him off and instead send one careening across the uneven surface of the bar. Most of it sloshes on his parka, soaking the fur hood.

He spots Jyn across the room talking to two pilots-- or rather, being talked at. She catches his gaze and quickly looks away before glancing at her conversational companions and looking back. He offers a small wave and what he hopes is a friendly smile, because what else is he supposed to do? This is the most interaction they've had in months.

He can see her debating her options when a very unsteady Bodhi swoops between the pilots and hooks an arm around Jyn's shoulder. Cassian watches her face pass through exasperation to genuine happiness as Bodhi leads her away.

It turns back to exasperation when Bodhi directs the pair of them over to where Cassian is sitting and gently pushes Jyn's shoulder until she sits on the box across from him.

"Okay, you two are going to talk. Because I am tired of mediating between whatever this is and I'd like to see both my friends at the same time. If either of you get up from here before that happens-- Cassian I know you can't move that fast right now and Jyn, I will get Skywalker to find you and he will probably hero worship until you want to scream," Bodhi says sternly. She sighs, resigned. Satisfied, Bodhi grabs another drink from Antilles and waltzes away with stuttering little half-hop his prosthetic causes.

"Did he just threaten to sic the savior of the galaxy on me?"

"I thought we were the saviors of the galaxy," he says lightly. She pins him with a look that could rival the princess. Cassian raises his arms in mock surrender.

"Bodhi's right though-- you can't brush of Skywalker he'll give you those kicked puppy eyes," Cassian says.

"I'll never understand how Bodhi has managed to befriend every person in the Rebellion."

"It's a talent truly."

An awkward silence settles between them, each uncomfortably sipping their drinks. Bodhi is periodically looking over to check on them.

A young mechanic still in uniform waves a hello to Jyn as he grabs a pair of drinks from Antilles. Jyn nods her head back.

"You made friends," he notes. "Thats, uh, good."

She glances at her glass, then quickly lifts it and drains the rest of it.

"I had friends."

"What happened?"

"Got sent away to make new ones."

It finally clicks in his head. Damn it, Andor what kind of kriffing intelligence operative are you? The voice in his head sounds suspiciously like his commanding officer but it has a point. He deducts a point from his tally, tying him with Draven yet again. 

Of course that's what she thought, it's not like he hadn't read her file. A lifetime ago,but still. She's adaptable, she's had to change everything in her life wholesale multiple time and can do it with brutal efficiency. No wonder she's pressed on without him.

Jyn swipes a glass from the ice bar and slams back another drink.

"Any chance she reconnects with the old ones?" he hedges, trying not to sound hopeful. Jyn looks at him intently, eyes narrowing. 

"And if she wanted to?"

"Then maybe they've been hoping to hear that."

Jyn's eyes soften slightly, or maybe it's just the alcohol. She thrusts hand between them.

"Sergeant Jyn Erso," she says, actually smiling at him now. It makes his heart jump. Maybe he's the drunk one.

"Captain Cassian Andor," he replies, shaking her hand.

"Oh my bad Captain, should I be saluting you instead?" she asks cheekily. _That_ makes his stomach flip and he most definitely will be blaming it on the alcohol and not think about it again. He forces what he hopes is a nonchalant eye roll instead.

"Please don't, Shara will never let me live it down."

One of the pilots Jyn was talking to earlier is hovering at the bar, shooting glance over to Jyn. Cassian works to keep his scowl in check. 

The man approaches where he and Jyn are sitting. He's shorter than Cassian, stocky, with close cut blond hair and nose that looks like it's been broken one too many times. His ears stick out slightly, Cassian wonders how he fits them under his helmet.

"So Erso," the man says, "Can I cash in on that dance?"

Jyn's face is impassive as she considers him but after a moment's deliberation she stands up, taking her drink. Cassian fails at keeping the scowl in check. The pilot looks mildly alarmed.

"Friends, Cassian," she reminds him as she grabs the blond by the wrist. "Let's not push it."


	6. the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassian has a bad feeling about all this. Jyn repays Melshi. Poe spirals.

"Just think of it like old times, Cass," Jyn says, loading up bag at the foot of their bed. An extra vest, a small sheathed blade, a extra pair of thick socks, a blaster. Cassian paces on the other side of the room.

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," he says darkly. Jyn sighs.

"I trust you, I trust your intelligence, and I'm going to go scope it out."

"Because that went so well last time."

"We need to land somewhere, preferably soon. I rather real solid ground than floating around in space," she says with shudder. She was not eager to relive her time on Home One.

"That's because you're a shit pilot."

She tosses a balled up shirt at him, "I'm not shit. I'm flying myself out aren't I?"

"Black Squadron is scouting too, you could have at least paired with them."

"And not let them fly their own ships? They're all like Poe, anything bigger than an X-Wing and they hate it. And I can't stand whining."

Cassian snorts but continues pacing. She reaches out and grabs his hand as he passes by.

"Hey" she says. He tugs momentarily at her hand but stops in front of her. She kneels up on the bunk so she's nearly eye to eye with him. After the chaos of the last week he looks more drawn than she's seen him in years, eyes sharp but shrouded by dark circles. She runs a thumb over the scruff on his jaw and he relaxes into the caress, his eyes closing and a few lines smoothing across his forehead. She pulls him closer, wrapping her arms around him.

"I have a bad feeling," he mumbles into her neck. She nods.

"I know."

"Like deja vu."

"I came back then and I'm going to come back now." she whispers, teasing the hairs at the nape of his neck. "I'm not going anywhere without you."

"All the way," he says, the words a prayer on his lips.

\--

"Kes, I'm glad you two are in love but if I hear about Shara one more time today I'm going to end you," Jyn hisses into the comms. It's a terrible reason to break comm discipline but really, discipline wasn't their unit's strong suit and Dameron won't stop yammering about how goddamn in love he is. 

Plus if Solo didn't reprimand her for slapping him he sure isn't going to criticize her for this.

"She's right-- can you just get hitched already and be done with it?" Solo chimes in, validating her suspicion.

"Hypocrites, both of you!" Kes says incredulously.

"You better not be suggesting what I think you are," Jyn warns.

"I'm just saying!"

"Stop saying," Han insists. 

"Listen I don't know what weird aggressive mating rituals you prefer--" Kes starts in on Solo.

"This isn't about our favorite hero couple's erotic arguing," Jyn insists. Solo sputters and she ignores him, "This is about you mooning over Shara's eyes and her hair and how good she looks in her kriffing flight-suit and how funny she--"

"Not to interrupt taking the piss out of the good sergeant here," Melshi's voice crackles over the comm. "But I got eyes on the package."

Jyn adjusts her position on the street corner, checks her blaster is tucked under her tunic and re-adjusts her scarf over the right side of face, obscuring both her comm and the scarring. Telos is a fairly quiet planet, as far as rebel cells go, and its garrison had grown complacent as a result. But Jyn's face was plastered on wanted posters across the galaxy, owing to an unfortunate incident on Ord Mantell some months ago. Liana Hallick, escaped convict and suspected Rebel sympathizer, was a wanted woman once again. 

Cassian hadn't been pleased with that update, scowling at her throughout the debrief as if it was _her_ fault some gangster creep remembered her face five years later. 

Solo had whistled at that, "Must have made quite the impression Erso," he said suggestively. Cassian glared at him.

"The impression was I shorted him some money and who's fault was that?" she had shot back. Solo shrugged guiltily. Jyn was mildly concerned Cassian was going to put a bullet between his eyes then and there. Luckily for Solo, Bodhi had piloted that mission-- there was no way they could have flown the _Millenium Falcon_ in unnoticed, a point which Solo eventually conceded after an hour of arguing-- and pointed out that on the bright side, Jyn Erso remained dead as far as the Empire was concerned, which seemed to at least temporarily placate Cassian.

The comm in her ear crackles again. "Shavit, I might have company," Melshi whispers. He leaves the comm open, and the faint sound of boots on pavement gets closer. 

Jyn signals to Yana across the street, who gives her a pained expressionthat couldn't be interpreted as anything other than 'please don't'. Jyn signals her attention again, carefully shifting off her post. Sighing, the corporal signs her acknowledgement and gives Jyn the go ahead.

"Docs, now," a mechanized voice can be heard demanding. 

"Pfassk," Solo curses. Then, quieter. "Delta, fall back to Charlie, rendezvous at choke-point in 10."

"Ah yes, I have them," Melshi's voice is unnaturally loud, stalling for time. The sound of fumbling crackles in her ear. "One minute, must have re-arranged."

"Delta, confirm," Solo insists. Jyn has already cut through an alley toward Melshi's position, and can just make him out down the road. It's fairly empty, no high vantage point or cameras that Jyn can see. There's maybe 100 feet between her and Melshi

"Delta."

"Delta confirmed" Yana mumbles into the comm. Jyn makes a note to thank her later. She reaches into her boot for her baton, other hand near the blaster on her hip.

"Ow, I have them I have them!" Melshi says, voice raised to a level of panic that befit a civilian caught without papers. Peering around the corner, Jyn sees the stormtrooper shove Melshi to the ground.

"Find them at the station," the stormtrooper tells him, yanking an arm back. He complies just enough to not dislocate his shoulder.

"Seven," Solo counts down on the comms, breathing heavily. 

The troopers have slapped a pair of cuffs on Melshi without so much as a search for weapons. Amateur, Jyn thinks, but amateur is working in her favor right now so she's not about to question it.

The troopers are about twenty feet out when Jyn opens her comm.

"Bravo be alert!" 

Melshi's head shoots up and she knows he heard her. She's blown the brief cover Yana lent her and Solo curses at her in Huttese.

Melshi takes the note and crosses his feet, purposefully stumbling to the ground. One of the troopers tugs at his shoulder and Melshi lurches forward again, sprawling face-first into the duracrete road. He receives a boot to the ribs for his trouble. 

The commotion gives Jyn the gap she needs and she closes the distance, hugging the wall. The first troopers turns around just in time to receive a baton to their throat. 

"Ah, honey you're home!" Melshi crows. He pushes himself to his knees and jumps to a crouch while the trooper minding him turns his attention to Jyn.

Jyn hits the ground to avoid a blaster shot and curses. So much for keeping this quiet. 

"Five," Solo warns, his voice cutting through the scuffle. 

The trooper raises his blaster again and Melshi leaps, hitting his wrist with the handcuffs. The blaster skitters away and Melshi goes down again in a tumble of white armor. 

The single shot echoes in the alley and the stormtrooper falls limp. Jyn tucks the stolen blaster under her arm-- no point in turning down a perfectly functioning weapon. Melshi rolls out from beneath the trooper, grinning wildly with a split lip and a rapidly bruising shiner on his cheek. 

Jyn bends down to unlock the cuffs. "Less of that damsel in distress shit yeah?" 

Melshi laughs, "That's only one Erso, you still owe me another."

\--

Poe is spiraling. Cassian tells Leia as much. 

"He's my best pilot, I can't sideline him right now."

Cassian paces the length of the bridge. Leia's watching him intently, arms crossed.

"He's lost friends and been demoted in the space of a few hours," he says. "On top of all the other bantha-shit that's been going on this week."

"We've all had our shit this week," Leia says frowning. Cassian leans heavily on a control panel, ready to apologize but the general continues. "Are you seriously suggesting he didn't deserve a demotion after losing our entire bombing fleet?" she asks incredulously. 

"Of course not," Cassian says waspishly. "I'm just saying he’s spiraling and at a risk of going rogue-- do not say it Leia," he says soon as she opens her mouth. She raises an eyebrow at the informality.

"What do you want me to do, lock him in timeout until he's cooled down? Listen I want to protect him, all of them, just as much as you do but they're not kids anymore, they're soldiers and we're fighting war."

"I know! Or I don't know! But he has the eyes, mission gone off the deep end bad..."

"I've known you for nearly half a century, Cassian, I know exactly what that looks like," Leia says. Cassian nods, throat dry. He feels oddly exposed. She sighs, rubbing her temple. "If you're really concerned go find him and try to talk him off the cliff. No offense but we're past the situation where any amount of new intelligence is going to help us."

The dull reverberation of shots hitting the deflector shields punctuate her point.

"Last I heard he was going to scramble his ship," she tells him. "Just in case. His words, not mine."

Cassian gives her a nod and slips out of the bridge, heading toward the hanger. A low siren whines in the halls of the _Raddus_ as the thudding of cannon fire against the ship's shields continues. In the cross section of two hallways a whirring ball of white and orange nearly knocks him over.

"Captain Dameron!" he shouts, turning sharply and taking off after Poe. 

"What do you want Cassian?" Poe asks tersely, whipping around to face him. He's breathing heavily, helmet grasped tightly in his hand.

"What I want, _Captain_ ," Cassian says coolly, "Is to make sure you have a plan before taking the rest of our fleet against a First Order flagship."

Poe stiffens, "Are you questioning my state of mind or my judgement?"

"I'm making sure you're not going to make any decisions that will get you killed."

"All due respect, sir" Poe sneers, his tone not broaching anything that could be considered respect, "You're not my commanding officer."

Cassian's normally the reserved one, as a general rule he does not do dressing downs. He leaves that to Jyn, or less frequently, Leia. But he's at the end of his rope, they all are. Leia was right, everyone dealing with things right now. 

His building frustration boils over and vaguely he considers Jyn's mannerisms have rubbed off too much but he just wants to get through Poe's thick, reckless skull. There's no time left for the long game. Poe flinches, just barely, when Cassian steps into his space and looks down at him. "I still rank far above you and I swear I will fucking knock you down to Lieutenant--"

The explosion knocks him flat on his back before he can finish the sentence. 

Poe, who was standing closer to the hanger entrance, slams against the wall. Sirens are still buzzing in Cassian's ear as he pushes himself to his feet. The muscle memory is like deja vu-- he could be thirty years younger, flat out on some godforsaken outer rim planet. Jyn, yanking him along, telling him to--

"General get up, c'mon, _Cassian_." It's Poe, expression still raging but concern, even fear, is setting into his features, dark eyes darting between Cassian and the hanger burning. Cassian faintly registers the sounds of screaming.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I need to get back to the bridge," he murmurs, wiping off his hands and scrambling unsteadily to his feet. Poe holds onto his arm as he steadies himself. The sirens seem to have multiplied and he's worried he's hit his head harder than he thought but Poe notices it too and suddenly a panicked voice is calling for medics over the PA system:

"Medics to the hanger, medics to the bridge!"

Cassian's eyes widen and he takes off at a sprint he didn't think he was still capable of, Poe and BB-8 just ahead of him.

\--

Cassian is exhausted by the time he makes it to the ship. It's been well over 36 hours since he last shut his eyes and his whole body aches and his right leg feels slightly numb. 

He tosses his bag on the jumpseat, slaps the bulkhead twice and sits down heavily, dropping his head between his knees. He hears the engines whir as the ship takes off. He desperately wants a nap.

"The conquering hero returns!" a voice calls from the cockpit.

"Hello to you too Shara. How long back home?"

"Do you want the real time or the time you're hoping to hear?"

"Surprise me."

"Twelve hours," she says. Cassian does the math in his head and it seems about right. Honestly, as long as he can lay down he doesn't care. Shara apparently can read his mind. "Before you crawl into the bunk check under your seat."

There's a small bag in the box bolted to the floor. He crawls into the narrow bunk and dumps it on the threadbare blanket, an assortment of unlabeled foil packages falling out. The dark brown crumbs of a dried fruit biscuit fall out when he tears one open.

"Shara you're my hero don't let anyone tell you differently."

"Think of it as your welcome back to the field present. It helps that no one likes those damn ration cookies except you. Took me minimal cajoling to get people to hand them over. I'll wake you up when we're two hours out, this is my R&R too."

In the end, Shara gives him an extra half hour of rest. His body still aches when he rolls out of the bunk and pokes his head in the cockpit.

"Better?" she asks him, holonovel resting on the dashboard. 

"Better," he confirms, settling in to the co-pilot's seat. Shara reaches up to adjust a control and he catches a glint of silver reflecting in the blue-white glow of hyperspace. Cassian lets out a low whistle.

"So he finally did it?"

Shara smiles softly, absently reaching to fiddle with the ring, "Well, we did it-- all official and everything."

"Damn I was only gone a few weeks. I know pilots move fast--" she socks him in the arm, "I'm kidding, I'm happy for you two. Good to have some good news for once."

"Speaking off good news, Kes's unit got back from their mission early."

Cassian shoots her a look. "Have you been talking to Bodhi?"

"I mean yes, but no. I'm just not blind."

"We're friends Shara."

She looks at him in disbelief. 

"You two sulked around each other for a year, finally decided to pull your heads out of your asses and are back to being such a unit on base that half the enlisted are terrified to so much as say anything negative about either one of you for fear the other finds out."

"Getting married has made you soft, Bey. Jyn, _Bodhi_ , and I survived a series of near death experiences in the space of the week, that's bound to create comraderie between any group of soldiers."

"Yeah but no one is terrified of Bodhi. They should be, he can be incredibly conniving when he wants to be but he doesn't scowl as much as you two."

Cassian sighs, "I beg you, please just let it go. The last thing I need are rumors spreading around base."

"Give me some credit, I only spread substantiated rumors."

"You're a pain."

To her credit though, Shara drops the topic for the rest of the flight to Hoth. Even manages to bite her tongue when they land, and Jyn is waiting for him in the hanger, hands tucked under her arms and bouncing from foot to foot.

"C'mon, Bodhi's waiting for us in the mess hall," she says by way of greeting, falling into step beside him. He's still exhausted and could use a shower but the promise of some warm food is enticing. 

Bodhi is bundled in a scarf and heavy parka, clutching a steaming cup of caf when he and Jyn slide into their seats.

"Aren't you heading to your bunk after this?" Jyn asks him between mouthfuls of unidentifiable stew.

"Honestly, I don't think caf even affects me anymore it's just nice to have something warm. And I wanted to wait until Cassian got back."

The admission makes Cassian smile, broad and genuine, as he settles deeper into his chair, hands curling around his own cup. Jyn looks at Bodhi fondly. Screw Shara, he thinks, he's damn lucky to have these two as friends. He's not going to risk screwing that up.

"Thanks Bodhi."

\--

The ship's port side viewport provides a great point for Cassian to watch his impending death. One by one he watches transports fall out of sight.

He's imagined his death more times than is probably healthy. Shot dead in a ditch somewhere, crushed by an imperial droid he'd decided to reprogram, lullaby pill after capture, shot off the face of a planet nearly three times by the same super weapon. 

Picked off in an unarmed transport was not one of the options he'd considered.

In the distance, away from the hail of cannon fire, Crait looks almost peaceful. Cassian wonders if Bodhi's last view of Jedha had looked the same.

_The box of a room he lived in on Hosnian Prime was suffocating. He pushed open the window, leaning out over the hum of the city, taking deep breaths. The air was stale. He longed for Yavin's humidity._

_He needed to call Jyn, he told Leia he would but--_

_"Pirates, supposedly," she had told him. "But I think we both know that's not true."_

_Leia Organa had looked more exhausted than he ever remembered her looking during the entire war. The war that supposedly ended years ago and yet.  
_

_And yet and yet and yet._

_Cassian sat on the edge of bed, turning the comm over in his hands, trying to build the courage._

_"It was a humanitarian ship-- it was marked!"_

_"I know."_

_"He was doing the Republic a favor-- if he had taken his own ship--"_

_"We can't know that for sure, someone was surely aware of the shipment regardless. Sympathizers have been making an increased foothold in the Senate."_

_"But-- if we know it's not piracy then there has to be an investigation?" he had stood, pacing in the small Senate office._

_"Cassian," Leia's voice had reminded him of how she used to tell Ben news he didn't want to hear. She had used the same tone when she sent him to train with Luke._

_"If we're not going to live up to any sort of standard then what's the point! What ever was the point?"_

_He hadn't registered her standing, or walking over. But she had wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him tightly when he tried to pull away. For the first time since the end of the war, he cried._

_His eyes were still puffy hours later, though he tried to dull their redness in the refresher. He inhaled deeply and called._

_Jyn's face appeared in the blue of the holo._

_"Hey one second-- Poe go tell your dad I'm going to be late, Cassian's calling!"_

_Cassian could hear a muffled shout back. He considered hanging up, letting her have a few more hours of ignorance. He knew she would smack him for the thought._

_"What's up?"_

_"Jyn, I--"_

_Her brow furrows and she sat down at the rickety table in the kitchen._

_"What happened?"_

_He drew a shaky breath. "Jyn, Bodhi's dead."_

Bodhi was the reason she joined the Resistance. She told Leia as much when she re-enlisted. 

Tearing himself away from the viewport he goes to find Leia. He finds her sitting across from Poe, head bandaged. Poe is still passed out. There's blood on the collar of his jacket from where he bit his lip when he fell after being tazed. The chain of his necklace had come untucked from his shirt and caught on the zipper, the silver ring hanging to the side.

_Sorry Shara_ , Cassian thinks. Force, how did everything go downhill so fast? A kriffing mutiny. 

"So, I take it your talk wasn't productive?" Leia asks wryly. 

"Leia--" he says, leaning on the wall behind her.

"Save it. If you hadn't gone after him you would've been on the bridge with the rest of us."

"The way things are going I may have just delayed the inevitable."

"Have a little faith Cassian."

"Easier said when you can magic yourself through open space," he retorts without thinking. Leia's eyes widen. "I'm sorry, that was glib."

"But fair enough," she says, with a shake of her head. "And glibness is easier to compartmentalize. When we survive this we can save the seriousness for the debrief."

Cassian places a hand on her shoulder, and gives it a gently squeeze. "I'm going to go try to re-establish some comms with our teams in the field."

He slips out the door and walks down the narrow hall to a space no bigger than a closet where Connix has set up a small, makeshift communications center. 

"Anything from Black Squadron?" He asks her.

"No sir, haven't heard from Major Erso either. Her last check in was at a trading outpost in the Core but no further communications since then."

\--

It's not that things had been going amazingly well, but when everything collapses, it collapses spectacularly.

The entire base shakes from the Imperial bombardment, and Cassian has already narrowly avoided the crush of crumbling walls twice.

"I thought I told you to get on a transport Andor," Draven yells when he makes it through to Rebel Intelligence.

"Yes, sir."

"You're clearly not on one."

"Yes, sir."

Draven curses, "Then make yourself useful and soon as this room is cleared, get on the damn transport!"

Cassian nods, grabbing the nearest piece of bent metal from a former desk leg. They'd run shutdown prodcedures before-- which documents to wipe from servers, which to burn. It was always careful, controlled and complete.

Reality it turned out was much messier. 

Cassian is sweating despite the normal persistent cold of Hoth, despite heating lines going down as Echo Base falls around him. He's crushing datapads and hard drives with his makeshift club and the heel of his boot, the preferred method after one newbie analyst got his hand on a blaster and tried to destroy material that way. He nearly got himself shot for the trouble.

He's mostly tuned out the alarms blaring, the warning of a breach on the north side of base, the swirling rumor that Vader himself had landed on the planet, all filtering through the lone remaining comms operator in Rebel Intel.

They destroy that computer last, drastically cutting off the flow of information into base. Cassians sends the remaining anaylsts to the transports, so he can give the room one last sweep.

Or that's his plan anyway.

"Captain Andor! General Draven said you had already left!"

"Just finishing up a few things, your highness."

The Princess glances around the room incredulously, "I think it's handled!"

"I just need--"

"Cut the shit Andor, and get to the hanger. You should have already been long gone."

"Respectfully, shouldn't you be as well?"

She smiles wryly, "Luckily for me, I outrank you," she says, turning to head back toward High Command. "You better be gone when I get back," she warns.

Cassian gives one last frustrated whack to the nearest datapad and takes off toward the hanger.

The sirens are even louder there, and most of the ships are gone, many of the few that remained clearly damaged. In here he can clearly hear the sound of gunfire outside.

He makes it to the last transport minutes before it takes off. He's barely made it out of the cargo hold when the pilot's voice crackles over the comm system.

"Hold on, going to be a bit bumpy for a while."

He sags with relief-- Bodhi.

He makes his way to the cockpit, past an exhausted cross-section of the Rebellion. A few injured pilots, mechanics, engineers, a harried quartermaster. He recognizes several members of Rebel Intelligence, relieved they listened to his command earlier. Raised voices catch his attention.  
"You're never done this before?!"

"I've seen it done. Once."

"You're risking a hell of a lot of lives on once, Rook!"

"Do you have a better idea how to run an Imperial blockade?"

Cassian realizes what Bodhi's about to do a second before it happens, and just manages to grab hold of the cockpit's doorframe as the entire transport lurches. A few panicked yells reverberate throughout the ship, including from the co-pilot.

The ship steadies once they hit hyperspace and Cassian finds its blue streaks soothing. He releases the breath he'd been holding. 

Bodhi's whooping when he sticks his head into the cockpit. His co-pilot looks shaken.

"Uh, I'm sorry, sir but you're not really supposed to be here," he stutters. Bodhi raises a placating hand.

"It's find Formoe, Captain Andor is the once," he says. The co-pilot's eyes widen. "Why don't you take a break? The Captain can co-pilot for a bit."

Formoe looks mostly relieved and quickly jumps out of his seat and leaves the cockpit. 

"There are probably smoother ways to run a blockade," Cassian says, taking a seat. Bodhi shrugs.

"Maybe. But there were already reports of transports being shot down and this ship isn't armed so..."

"It was a good call. Have you heard anything from the rest of the fleet?"

"Mostly radio silence, a couple calls from other transports with the same question we have."

"Nothing from Command? Senator Mothma? The Princess?"

"Not yet."

"Anything from previously deployed units?"

Bodhi gives him a look, "Nothing from the Pathfinders. But if they don't already know we've abandoned base they'll find out long before they attempt to come back."

"Right," he says running a hand through his hair. Bodhi's look softens.

"She's going to be fine, Cassian."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of Cassian in this chapter, the next chapter will be mostly Jyn and will take place entirely in the Original Triogy timeline, post-Hoth.
> 
> FWIW the two original characters in this chapter probably won't be seen again and don't really have backstories other than the following: Yana is a corporal in the Pathfinders and is exhausted of Jyn's particularly brand of crazy. Formoe is a very newbie pilot and spends the entirety of the Battle of Hoth as bewildered as he was during take-off.


	7. black branch with blood that kept drippin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jyn and Cassian continue to sidestep one another. A mission goes awry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terribly sorry about the delay, but after a deleted draft and a hectic time in life interrupting I finally have an update! Parts of this chapter were the very first thing I wrote for this story. 
> 
> **Warnings, if people need them!**  
> Semi-graphic description of a broken arm.  
> Light description of a panic attack (Drawn from my own experiences, not any sort of medical/clinical research).

Cassian meets Bodhi in the mess hall, bleary eyed from a double shift in Rebel Intelligence. All missions not ongoing had been grounded in favor of redirecting resources toward analysis and figuring out what the fark had gone wrong at Hoth.

It made sense strategically but Cassian hated analysis, an opinion not changed by his long desk duty stint after Scarif. That had been worse than any reprimand or demotion— and Draven knew it.

Bodhi’s already waiting in the back of the mess, lit by the light of a narrow viewport. He looks as tired as Cassian feels. If Intel had turned every spy on base into an analyst, every pilot had likewise become a mechanic, ships slowly trickling in from where they’d been scattered in the evacuation.

The kitchen is closed for the evening but Bodhi wheedles a warm plate of various leftovers from the cheery older Devaronian still working. Cassian has a feeling it’s not his first time. It’s frequently his job to get what he needs with a gentle word and warm smile and given two lifetimes he could never master Bodhi’s skill at it.

_Because he isn’t a liar_ , Cassian’s inner voice mocks. He furrows his brow— Jyn’s presence in his head is easily a result of the inappropriate amount of time she occupies his thoughts but in moments like these it’s disconcerting.

She would never be as cruel to him as his own conscious is.

“Credit for your thoughts?” Bohdi asks, shoveling the leftover mush with a spongy bread.

Cassian shrugs. “Jyn,” he answers honestly. Bodhi gives him a pitying look.

“We’re getting more ships back everyday, now that they’ve got the operations center running again. I’m sure we’ll hear from the--" Bodhi pauses, mouth hovering around her name before catching Cassian’s expression and redirecting “--Pathfinders soon.” 

Cassian rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. This hadn't been his first quick relocation, even if it was the most chaotic. He knows sometimes commucation gets lost in the shuffle, no matter how much time time he spends hovering around the communications bridge in high command. Senator Mothma had forced him out after the third day of that, politely insinuating he was frightening people. Draven had been more direct.

"You're being an ass, Andor."

Besides, it had only been a scouting mission, with a fraction of Jyn's unit. Which of course meant Solo had been planet side and now he's gone dark too, along with Leia Organa and if the Empire doesn't find them first he's pretty sure they might kill each other. 

He curses, mostly to himself, about nothing in particular. Or maybe everything. Kriff it, he’s exhausted.

Bodhi grins, replying with something Cassian vaguely recognizes as Jedhan from his few times on the planet before...

Before.

“Since when do you understand Festian?”

“I don’t,” Bodhi laughs, “but some things don’t need a translation.”

“So that’s what, an equivalent?”

“Maybe, you’d have to tell me what you said. We can make it a fair trade, Jedhan for a bit of Fest.”

He doesn't have much to trade in truth. His grasp of his first language is a collection of remembered phrases and key words, not the melodic fluency his mother speaks in his memory. He's missing the connections, the bits of grammer that make it flow and he's missing someone to speak it with.

Bastardizations exist of course, though some would argue that Festian itself is the bastardization, not the other way around. Similar, but not the same.

“It’s late, Bodhi, I don’t think it’s time for a language lesson,” Cassian says, sharper than intended. The words roll right off Bodhi.

“Please? Or, we can play cards?" Cassian makes a face at that particular suggestion and Bodhi sighs. "I'm avoiding my bunk, two of my roommates snore and the quarters are somehow even tighter than Hoth. And I know you're not going to sleep anytime soon," he says pointedly. Cassian wants to be affronted but Bodhi's not _wrong._ He hasn't slept more than a hour of so each night since before the evacuation. And it wasn't much better before that. The best sleep he'd had recently was when he was unconscious in the medbay.

"Okay," he says in Basic. And then, begrudingly, in Festian-- "Fine." Bodhi lights up. 

By the end of the hour, he has a passable grasp of Jedha’s most versatile cuss words. Bodhi’s in the middle of teaching him what he promised is a particularly cutting sequence of those words when one of the mess doors swings open, banging loudly against the wall.

“Thank the Force!”

Jyn runs toward them full tilt, dodging tables as she goes, pack swinging wildly. She doesn’t slow down as she approaches, her hug knocking him back into his seat as he stands to greet her. 

“Oof.”

Bodhi’s shoots him knowing looks over her shoulder until he too has the wind knocked out of him with the force of Jyn’s affection. Cassian raises an eyebrow at him-- _See? Just as happy to see both of us._

“Must of really missed us, huh? This is like a year's worth of affection,” Bodhi jokes when he catches his breath, for the price of a friendly fist in his arm.

Jyn slides in next to Bodhi and Cassian smiles when she pulls the nearly empty plate of food over, hunching with her elbows bracketing the plate as she digs into it.

“We were alerted Echo base was compromised but we were deep in Imperial territory, the only radio chatter we could pick up was propaganda,” she explains between bites. "Which of course was all about the huge losses they inflicted on the rebel scum."

"It was chaotic," Cassian tells her, "Those we didn't lose were mostly scattered. We just got reliable comms back up yesterday."

"About time," Jyn grumbles through a mouthful of food, "Melshi and I were about ready to space Kes. We thought getting married would chill him out but no, still revoltingly in love."

Bodhi laughs, "Yeah Shara spent the past week complaining this wasn't the honeymoon she had in mind."

Jyn doubles over in laughter, green eyes bright.

"Poor bastards," she says, almost giggling now. "Can't catch a karking break." Bodhi, already grinning broadly, breaks and joins in.

Cassian smiles, still exhausted but now thankful Bodhi forced him to stay up. 

He has a suspicion that may have been his friend's plan all along.

\--

"Honestly, I don't see how two prices on my head is worse than one. We're in _rebellion_ , we all have prices on our heads!"

"Your highness-" Admiral Ackbar starts. Leia fixes him with a glare across the table, chin raised and eyebrow quirked in a way that begs _I dare you_. From his position along the wall, Cassian can see Senator Mothma hiding a smirk behind a daintily placed hand. General Rieekan is less subtle, smiling openly behind the the princess. Draven sighs.

"Princess--"

"I've been assured I have Intelligence's backing for this, General," she says curtly. Draven forces a polite smile that doesn't bother to meet his eyes as he steps back, hands resting behind his back. If Leia notices, she ignores it.

Her and Luke Skywalker's return, despite the loss of Han Solo, had proven to be quite the morale boost for the Alliance. The last Princess of Alderaan in particular, victorious after not one but two encounters with the most feared man in the galaxy, had captured the imagination of a rebellion who had watched her grow up. Leia was determined to capitalize on that-- regardless of her own personal turmoil. 

The Admiral however, doesn't seem to know when to let it lie and tries his line of concern again. 

"Your highness, I just think to goad the Emporer and Vader so soon after the events on Bespin..."

Leia places both hands broad on the table, leaning forward and rising up to full height. She's not much taller than Jyn but she dominates the room and briefly, Bail Organa's shadow falls over the table.

"Vader was feeling less torture-y this time Admiral," she says cooly. Rieekan, laughing before, sucks in a breath through his teeth. Ackbar won't meet her eyes. "Because he was confident in his rout. So I would say it's the perfect time to as you say, goad him. The Empire needs to be reminded of our victories. Hoth was a disaster but we need to lean into our victory at Yavin. We need _recruits_. The threat of the Death Star is gone, we need to spotlight that again, remind the galaxy."

Ackbar acquiesces. "I still think this is a bad idea but if you insist, and others agree..."

"I do and they do. General Draven, please inform General Cracken I will see him later to discuss strategies."

Jyn is waiting outside as they file out, watching the Princess as she strides off with Skywalker close on her heels.

"What's with her?" she asks.

"Hello to you too, Jyn,” he says, sarcasm seeping in. "How are you Jyn? I'm not so bad myself." She gives him a withering look and he can’t help but roll his eyes. “Ackbar didn’t approve of her self sacrificing plan to aid recruitment.”

“Which was?”

“Vader’s soft, join the Rebellion?”

Jyn snorts, “She knows Command is risk-averse bordering on useless, right?”

“She _is_ Command. And they’re getting better.”

"Sure they are. Are you coming to the training center?"

He'd forgotten about it. He'd been cleared for missions, already run several, but Leia still harped on him about physical therapy he was missing (purposefully skipping, but she didn't need to know that). She recruited Jyn for middle ground approach, Jyn promising to train with him in lieu of going to any mandated sessions. He isn't sure how he feels about the two most stubborn women he knows ganging up on him but it's not exactly a hardship, training with Jyn. He already spends most of his time on base with her anyway.

On the otherhand, she's intense in everything she does and an afternoon of hand to hand with her is bone-numbing.

"I promised I'd finish a report for Draven," he says, waving his datapad.

"Mission?" she asks, sliding closer, craning her neck to get a look at the screen. He pulls it away, tucking it behind his back.

"Maybe."

"Tease," she huffs, still encroaching on his space. Not that he minds.

_No shit._

The voice in his head is Bodhi today and it's painfully deadpan. Cassian ignores it.

"After?" he promises.

She looks up at him, eyes bright when she issues her threat: "You better."

\--

Jyn is suprised to see her corner of the training room occupied when she arrives. It's not really _her_ corner but she comes here everyday around the same time and a toxic combination of misplaced hero-worship, intimidation, and fear allows her to beat up training dummies in relative peace. 

It's not that she intentionally intimidates other people, Bodhi assures her, it's just that the scowl doesn't help.

The intruder has her hair in one long braid and it dressed in dark clothing, a vest several sizes too big swinging loosely from her body as she whacks the training dummy with a long blunted staff she's holding like a sword.

"That's not the most efficient way to use a staff," Jyn says, wrapping her hands as she approaches the mat. Leia turns, breathing heavily. Her knuckles are white around the tightly clutched staff, her right hand cracked and bleeding slightly.

"I don't really care," she says primly, chin raised regally as if she's not trying to beat the stuffing out of a training dummy. Jyn tries a different tact.

"I'm sorry about Solo," she says sincerely. 

"Yeah well, worse things happen in the universe every day." Leia says shortly, swinging the staff over her head like an axe. Jyn makes a disbelieving noise and Leia turns to face her. The vest is a Corellian style and yeah, Leia is full of shit. 

But also is clearly holding it together by a thread.

"Can I join?" she asks, gesturing toward the dummy. "You've been spending too much time with Skywalker, holding the staff like that. Unless you have a lightsaber, or sword, that's not a particularly efficient stance."

Leia glares at her but hands out the staff. Jyn grabs it at its center, spinning it through her fingers. Leia snorts. 

"Fancy tricks?" she says acidly. Jyn grins. She’s much better at competitive banter than kind words.

She spins out in the same move she'd used on Jedha, modifying it to account for the single staff.

_Cassian looked at her equal parts stupefied and impressed, raised blaster dropping to his side. It was the most open she’d seen his face since they met in the Great Temple’s shadows._

_He had a nice face._

She hears the three clicks before she hits the final pressure point and the dummy flashes red with a light buzz. Kill shot.

"I take it back,” Leia says with the same low whistle Solo favored. “Impressive. Show me."

Jyn walks her through the movement repeatedly until they're both sweating. Leia clearly has more training than she would've expected and she wonders what a Princess's upbringing entails. They train in silence, save for the few instructions Jyn doles out, until she suggests they move on from weapons.

"Have you ever wanted to destroy someone?" Leia asks, finally wrapping her hands even though nearly every knuckles is already bleeding. She hisses slightly through her teeth as the fabric covers them. "Hated them so much that you would do anything with in your power to make it happen?"

Jyn thinks of the Lah'mu and her mother falling, Krennic's cape flapping in the wind. Of the citadel on Scarif, the man in white falling, and Cassian's arms around her. _Leave it, leave it._

"Yes," she says without embellishment.

"Luke says anger and hate lead to the dark side. That that's how Jedi fall. But I'm no Jedi and I just want to--" Leia doesn't finish her sentence, instead accenting her point with a punch to the dummy's throat. 

"Am I interrupting?" 

Cassian looks bemused at the situation he's walked into.

"Just finishing Captain Andor," Leia says, dropping easily back into Princess Leia Organa, respected leader of the Alliance to Restore the Republic. Her posture straightens, voice drops, slower and melodic. "Glad to see you're keeping up on your physical therapy," she adds, still formally but with a hint of smugness creeping in. 

"Thank you, Jyn, your assistance has been much appreciated."

"What did I miss?" Cassians asks incredously as Leia leaves.

"Just some girl talk," Jyn responds dryly. 

"You're impossible."

"Am I lying though?"

"Yes, you've never done girl talk in your life."

Jyn grins, "True."

Cassian takes his place across the mat from her, hands up, "Are you really not going to tell me?"

"Nope," she says, advancing forward with the first jab. Cassian ducks it neatly. "We all have our secrets."

\--

Jyn limps off the ship, body coated in dried mud. Her hair is helmeted to her head by it and some flakes off Kes and Melshi's shoulders as she grudgingly uses them as a crutch.

They're given a wide berth in Home One's pristine hallways.

"It's not broken," she says when they lower her into a medbay chair.

"Force help me Erso if you think about nipping out of here before you get that checked out I will tell Captain Andor," Kes threatens.

"Tell me what?" Cassian asks, leaning on the doorframe. Jyn groans, hitting her head on the wall behind her. Melshi on the other hand, lights up like all his birthdays had come at once.

"Well you see Captain, we had a SNAK of a mission and Sergeant Erso here dragged us three klicks through waist deep mud and broke her ankle. But looks like you have everything under control here so I'm going to bugger off to a sonic!"

Melshi and Kes make a hasty exit with exaggerated waves as they go. Jyn raises her arms in a rude gesture.

" _I_ didn't break your ankle," Cassian says smirking, "No need for the aggression." 

"It's not broken!" she insists again. She made it nearly two miles with a full pack through pure sludge, there's no way its broken. “How did you even find out I was here?”

“Bodhi.”

“Tattle.”

Cassian shrugs, pulling up a chair across from her.

“Definitely broken.”

This time she _does_ direct her rude gesture in his direction. And worse, it turns out she's wrong.

"A severe fracture and a sprained knee at that. We've been short on bacta so you're looking at a month of good old-fashioned human healing," the doctor says, way too chipper about a fact that grounds Jyn for the next month. "Are you going to need help getting back to you quarters?"

"I can take her," Cassian interjects, sensing the cutting response that was on the tip of her tongue. 

Jyn gathers her ruined boot— cut away haphazardly to place the cast and the brace— and settles onto the crutches.

Cassian walks just behind her down the hallway, a guiding hand floating just behind her lower back as if he expects her to stumble. From nearly anyone else it would be patronizing, but Cassian's presence just feels reassuring.

"My bunk's that way," Jyn says pointing with her head when Cassian takes a left turn rather than a right. He steps back, running a hand through his long hair. He looks almost... embarrassed?

"Right, well Bodhi was saying how much smaller the enlisted quarters compared to Echo Base and my quarters have a semi-private sonic and my neighbor is gone on a mission so I thought it might be easier with--" the explanation tumbles out, nearly rambling, as he gestures at her cast.

"So you're saying I smell?"

"No!" he says quickly, eyes widening. Jyn laughs.

"I'm kidding, lead the way." Cassian looks relieved and his hand returns to her back. She resists the urge to lean into it, even fake a stumble. She forces the thought from her head. She’s just keyed up and sleep deprived.

Cassian keys the code to his quarters and disappears inside. The space is small, a narrow bunk tucked on the far end, bed neatly made. There's a tall skinny locker and a metal desk bolted to the wall, a black lock box bolted on top of that. No sign of personal effects— Cassian's quarters are exactly what his reputation would lead her to expect. 

He reappears from the rounded door to her left, ducking slightly to fit through it. 

"Should be all set." 

Jyn empties all her knives out onto his desk, Cassian smiling wider with each one. 

"That it?" he asks when she lays down the sixth one. She holds up a finger and reaches back, pulling out a long clip. Her hair is so coated in mud it doesn't fall from it's bun.

"Hair pin?"

"Literal pin," Jyn corrects, flipping open the brass covering to reveal the skinny blade beneath. 

"Clever."

The 'fresher is a tight fit. Jyn double checks the lock on the door into the adjoining room and leans on the sink, trying to work out the best way to get out of her clothes.

Her vest and shirt are easy to pull over head but the pants are impossible without bending her leg, even half ruined as they are. After a few minutes of struggle she gives up, stepping into the sonic half clothed, allowing the mud to be shaken off the best it can.

When she steps out, she bends her head over the sink, rinsing her hair and watching the basin fill with mud. After several rinses her hair is passably clean and she wraps in her mostly clean shirt to wring it out. It's grown longer than she's worn it in years and she uses the shirt sleeves to roll it off her neck and tie it off. She zips her vest over her bare torso. She looks ridiculous but it's a short walk back to her quarters.

Cassian laughs when she walks out. "You look...nice." She glares at him and he raises his hands briefly in self defense before reaching into his locker. 

"Here," he says, handing her a pair training clothes. "It will save you a trip to the quartermaster tonight."

"Thanks," she says, "I'm probably going to have to cut myself out of these anyway," she adds, gesturing at the ruined right leg. Cassian's face twitches, ever so briefly, and an idiotic, terrible, absolutely no good idea comes to her.

"But," she continues slowly, meeting Cassian's eyes. He's schooled his expression into a more neutral position. "I can't really bend my leg so I'll probably need help with that," she says in a rush before her newfound forwardness disappears.

He doesn't say anything in response and she steels herself, ignoring the warning bells going off in her head, and turns her back, unzipping her vest to slip on the soft shirt he'd handed her.

"Do you mind?" she asks. Cassian clears his throat and when she glances over her shoulder she sees he's turned away. Embarrassment bubbles up, and she's brutally aware of the network of scars webbing across her back. But he knows they're there, he'd seen her in the medbay and the training center, he--

"Of course not," he says, interrupting her spiral. Jyn releases the breath she'd been holding.

She sinks awkwardly into the metal chair, using the desk as support. Cassian's shirt fits her like a dress, the hem hitting the tops of her thighs when she sits down. 

Cassian turns back and kneels in front of her. Her stomach drops and she choose to ignore _why_ and her second thoughts are coming furiously. She can get up, leave, avoid him for the next few weeks--

"You okay?" he asks, hand rest gently just above the cast. She nods, casual-like, as if this perfectly normal. 

He takes one of her knives from his desk. He handles it with as much ease as his rifle, setting the blade to where the doctor's scissors had left off, careful to avoid her knee, his hands feather-light on her leg. He pauses at the hem of her shirt and she watches his hand flex around the knife's handle. 

Jyn holds her breath and her earlier boldness is fleeing fast. She considers stopping him, of escaping the room with some semblance of her dignity left. Her ears feel hot and she hopes her embarrassement isn't broadcast across her face.

Cassian pushes up the hem and continues, pulling away at the waist with one last flick.

She's imagined all the ways she might die but of embarrassement half clothed before an _objectively_ handsome man who saved her life in more ways than one was not one of them.

"Thanks," she says and karking hells her voice sounds hoarse. "I can, um--"

"Right, yeah," Cassian says jumping back to his feet and rotating away from her. 

She wriggles off the left pant leg and begins to put on the borrowed clothing and quickly encounters a similar problem.

"Hey, Cass? I'm sorry but--"

She hasn't managed to form a complete sentence since she proposed this ridiculous situation.

He kneels back down, helping her work the grey fabric around the extra bulk on her leg, stopping again at the hem of the shirt and standing up quickly.

She clumsily pulls them up the rest of the way. Her face is burning now and there's no hiding it on her pale skin. What was even her plan here to begin with? It's not like Alliance issued training clothes scream... seduction? Was that even her goal? 

"I should go," is what she says out loud, getting to her feet. She's swimming in the borrowed clothing.

"Right," Cassian says, looking as uncomfortable as she feels. Their dual discomfort relaxes her slightly. 

She gives a nod once she's on her crutches, mentally smacking herself as she reaches the door. _A nod? Really Erso?_

"Jyn, wait," he says, tapping her shoulder. She turns slightly, accepting the bundle of navy fabric he thrusts in her hand.

"You left it on Echo Base, Bodhi found it on his ship before the evacuation and it was a little torn so..."

She turns the scarf over in her hand, running a thumb over the neat line of stiches. She's not suprised Cassian is handy with a needle and thread, it's one of the first skills she'd picked up with Saw and of course the Alliance would equip their spies with it as well. 

However, she is annoyed how much better he appears to be.

"Thanks," she says instead. Cassian smiles and she pushes down the way it makes her stomach flip.

Shavit, she's so farked.

"See you tomorrow?" she asks once she's out the door.

"Tomorrow," Cassian agrees, the same smile softening his features. 

She turns the scarf over in her hands as she walks down the hall. On her second pass she notices the paler blue thread on the other side of the repair, a barely noticeable diamond looking shape on an otherwise plain fabric. Jyn reaches into the collar of Cassian's shirt, thumbing the kyber crystal at the base of her throat.

So farked.

\--

Jyn wriggles her toes in the weird slipper boot the doctor had given her when he removed her cast. He emphasized that she still needed to keep her weight off it, continue using crutches. 

Jyn heard she's cleared for duty.

Cassian disagreed, vigarously, and has been glaring at her the entire briefing, even through his own presentation which she admits is somewhat impressive. It's like he doesn't even trust her to attend the briefing as a show of support.

Which is smart, because she has a pack filled and waiting, hidden under her pillows in her bunk should the opportunity arise.

"This is going to be executed in coordination with our cell on the ground. They have the lay of the land and have conducted preliminary surveillance and disruption events--"

"So they've blown shit up," General Madine says with a laugh. Jyn smiles, watching Cassian supress a sigh and Draven's frown dip deeper as Madine takes over the briefing.

"I've read Intel's brief, Captain. Sergeant Dameron will take team Alpha to the north end of the Ring, meet up with your operative here," he says, emphasizing which a sharp _thwack_ of a wooden pointer against the datascreen. Nearly all other commanders flipped through the informations on their own datapad but Madine liked keeping it 'old school'.

Jyn refocuses on the briefing as Madine continues, "Bravo team led by Lieutenant Taluka will create a diversion here," _thwack,_ "and here," _thwack._

A notification of Jyn's datapad blinks.

From: Dameron, K (Sgt)  
To: Erso, J (Sgt), Melshi, R (Sgt)  
19:43:27 Oh great.

Jyn watches Taluka straighten in his seat. He's new to his rank and to their Pathfinder division, joining after Solo went M.I.A. Being put on the secondary team in favor of a sergeant leading the primary strike team had resulted in a significant amount of grousing behind Madine's back and subsequently, Jyn's immediate distrust in the lieutenant. 

"--Alpha and Bravo teams will each head fake to a to be determined location before returning to Home One, ensuring they don't pick up a tail."

From: Melshi, R (Sgt)  
To: Erso, J (Sgt), Dameron, K (Sgt)  
R u coming or the babysitter still say no?

From: Erso, J (Sgt)  
To: Melshi, R (Sgt), Dameron, K (Sgt)  
Screw off.

From: Dameron, K (Sgt)  
To: Erso, J (Sgt), Melshi, R (Sgt)  
S. says Rook says Andor's leaving before us. Just tossing that out.

Jyn glances up to where Cassian is talking closely to Draven, his face neutral.

From: Erso, J (Sgt)  
To: Dameron, K (Sgt), Melshi, R (Sgt)  
U know Im a stickler for rules Dameron. In theory tho if that were the case i would have packed a bag.

From: Melshi, R (Sgt)  
To: Erso, J (Sgt), Dameron, K (Sgt)  
[[:party:]] fun erso is on board [[:horn:]]

Madine dismisses their group and Jyn catches up with Cassian as they leave.

"How long is the mission?" she asks. He frowns.

"Who told you?"

"I never reveal my sources. Were you going to tell me?"

"Obviously, when have I not?"

Jyn shrugs. "But you're on your way to the hanger now."

Cassian sighs, "I would have found you. Listen, I know you're mad about the Kuat mission and are trying to live vicariously through me but it actually is classified."

Jyn huffs, kicking at the ground, but follows him to the hanger. When they reach his ship-- a small, single pilot transport-- Cassian pauses, shifting his weight slightly. 

"Don't get hurt," she advises. "Being grounded sucks."

Cassian laughs and briefly wraps his arms around her shoulders in a hug. Jyn's face buries in his chest and she can smell the Alliance-issued soap mixing with pervasive scent of engine fuel in the hanger and something else she can only identify as _Cassian._

"I won't. Tell Bodhi I said hello when he returns?" Jyn nods, giving him a thumbs up as he boards. Bodhi gets back from his most recent flight in a few days. She'll be long gone by then.

Jyn waits until the ramp closes before hustling out of the hanger, back to her quarters. She tosses the soft cast onto her bunk and pulls her studiest pair of boots from her footlocker, lacing them tight around her ankles. She makes her way across the ship to the starboard hanger, where she finds Kes and Melshi already waiting, extra gear bag in hand. 

"There she is!" Kes hollers, the rest of the unit turning to see her, including General Madine. She slows her run to a hesitant walk. Madine laughs.

"I'm not going to snitch on you Erso. You feel capable?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then we're lucky to have you. Sergaent Dameron, Sergaent Erso will join your crew. Corporal Krell, you can rejoin Liutenant Taluka's team."

"Yessir," Kes says as Yana scrambles over to the nearby ship, looking slightly too relieved not to be paired with Jyn. She tries to not take it personally.

But she's a great pfassking partner.

The general runs through a few last minute points before stepping back for their teams to board.

"May the Force be with you all."

\--

Jyn changes into her civvies as they prepare to land. To be fair they're not much different than her fatigues, just slightly softer in a way that doesn't scream 'I am with the Rebel Alliance!', but with a similar amount of pockets.

She finishes tucking her weapons away, including a collapsable baton. "Bet you're glad we did more hand to hand now aren't you?" she teases Melshi, who's stowing his own cache along his body. He sticks his tongue out at her.

"Really?" Kes sighs. "Can we all act like adults for maybe five minutes?"

"Yes, Dad," Jyn says sarcastically. Kes sighs again, heading to the cockpit to prepare for landing.

Jyn takes the navy scarf from her pack as they prepare to disembark, thumbing the ice blue crystal at its edge. She folds it in, tucking that corner into her collar near where her actual crystal lies, and pulls the fabric over her hair, the scarring on her neck disappearing beneath it. 

Their initial meet up isn't far from the spaceport, plenty of plausable deniability built in. Two people are waiting for them, one a short pale human man with dark hair, dressed in imperial fashions a few years off. Blending in, but not well off. The other is a narrow olive-skinned woman, with grey hair cropped short against her head. She's wearing long trousers and long sleeves, with a high neck that hits her jaw bone. Jyn can just see the ends of what must be extensive tattoos peeking out along her wrists.

"Kestral," she says when they introduce themselves, shaking the pair's hands.

This wasn't an intelligence mission-- a blow it up one, to borrow a phrase from the general-- but it wasn't one where they simply waltzed in and made the Alliance's presence known either. So, fake names and fake docs. All with suitably seedy backgrounds that befit a group of space nomads jumping from paycheck to paycheck, but nothing that any Imperial company wouldn't look over in favor of cheap labor. Jyn had personally overseen their creation, claiming it was her contribution to the mission if she had to be grounded.

So that was lie.

"Kista, this is Draze," she says gesturing to the man to her right. "We're happy to have you here." Her handshake is firm and her eyes sharp, there's no doubt she's leader here. "Have you heard from your associates recently?"

"They've been held up on business," Kes says, completing the passcode. "We expect to them to arrive a couple days late."

"A shame," Kista says sarcastically, "They'll have to miss our welcome dinner. We'll see you this evening then?"

"Yes," Kes agrees, "Thanks again for your hospitality."

"Anything for friends."

\--

Their group makes their way from through the packed streets of the Ring, squeezed between the fortified shipyards. The tops of various star destroyers peeking out from various yards but the rest of the city reminds Jyn of her unfortunate few times on Corsucrant, and its poverty stricken seedy underlayers. 

Kuat's aren't stacked, like Corsucrant, but rather jammed between shipyard walls, tall narrrow dilapidated buildings where the company's mostly migrant workers lived, if they were lucky. The rest lived planet-side, which may have once been beautiful without the pollution of the Ring. Each day shuttles brought workers to the Ring and back, IDs and scandocs checked upon exit and entry.

Kista's group thankfully operates within the Ring itself, where Jyn's scandocs had already held to initial scrutiny. They'd successfully been registered as contracters through Kista's shell agency, a few of many hoping to spin a profit.

Draze had taken them along the route they'd run and Kes had received confirmation of Bravo team's arrival. They'd hit the warehouse early in morning, and regroup at the safehouse during the morning rush. Stormtroopers will want to lock it down but KDY has significant influence and a few destroyed scrapyards won't be enough of them to cease production.

"Not at the risk of a day's profit, the grubby bastards," Kista assures them. Jyn would be wary over the amount of contact the Kuat cell has made with them over the past 2 days but she's begun to get the sense that Kista runs a tight ship. She was born on Kuat, planet-side, and worked her way up to the Ring before the Alliance recruited her. Out of public view, she ditches her long sleeves and confirms Jyn's suspicions, tattoos snaking over hers arms, chest and up her neck.

She's brought Draze with her, who's staring at Jyn like he recognizes her. Which, would be impossible. But still, she pulls her scarf tight around her neck, tucking the excess to hide her scars in a fashion similar to Kista's turtleneck.

The pair slip out before curfew, and Draze leaves the holomap he'd brought when showing them the warehouse earlier.

"May the force be with you."

\--

The next morning unfolds over an hour but when Jyn plays it back in her head, it feels like minutes.

Stormtroopers rush out of the nearest garrison to back up their comrades, following the reports of bombing in the next quadrant of the Ring.

Kes, Melshi, and Jyn slip into their target shipyard, scandocs backed up by contractors' licenses and Draze's man at the door.

Jyn slices the lock to the warehouse, taking over the front post. Melshi is covering their rear and Kes, pushes in to find the cannon parts the Rebellion desperately wants to take out.

A crackle, over the comms.

"Shavit," Kes whispers. Jyn's heart grows cold. "It's empty."

Melshi swears.

"Dameron we gotta go," Jyn says, anxiously scanning her surroundings. They had checked the brief a thousand times. They checked the map several thousand more. There's no way there was a mistake in the brief, not if Cassian had been working it, not unless they'd been deliberately betrayed.

Still no movement from the warehouse door.

"Dameron!"

She can hear the volume of voices increasing. Probably workers-- or whoever fed them false information and tipped off KDY. 

Or worse, the local garrison.

She's ready to go in and find Kes when he crackles through the comms.

"Coming out hot!"

Melshi doesn't have time to finish asking what that means before the roof blows.

"Had a whole lot of explosives, wasn't going to hang on to those," Kes wheezes to Jyn as he grabs her by her arm, pulling her toward the back of the building.

Melshi looks slightly shaken when they reach him, flat against the wall.

"Dameron, what the fuck."

"Clearly we were compromised, I don't think we would've had any luck going back out the front gate and if we tried it, sure as hell wasn't going to be chock full of explosives when we did it." Kes says. The yelling grows louder.

"The back of this lot backs up against the nearest slum, that's where we're going."

"I don't think--"

"Melshi, don't make me pull rank. You can complain later."

Melshi grumbles as Kes leads the way through the ship scrap, along the thick metal fencing. Jyn keeps her blaster drawn-- bad for any plausible deniability but good for a quick reaction.

Sirens are blaring and smoke still rises from the destroyed warehouse. Jyn breaths out heavily. She can hear the chastising from Draven already. _Fucking Pathfinders, you can't blow your way out of everything._ Kes Dameron clearly disagrees.

The housing lined half of the shipyard is nearly opposite of the warehouse, the fencing giving way to a sturdier wall with barbed wire along the top. The siren continues to blare overhead.

"Up and out?" she hazards. Melshi looks grim, and nods, lacing his fingers together. Kes does the same. She takes a running start into their open palms.

She manages a hold on the edge of the wall, just below sharp spikes of the tall barbed wire fencing. Her glove catches and tears as she slides over to the nearest post. 

She signals Melshi, who takes a running leap, grabbing onto her ankles. She bites back a scream as the injured one protests.

"Sorry Erso," he apologizes as he climbs up her to the ledge like a rope.

Kes is the heaviest of the three of them but also the tallest. He takes a running leap, grabbing their hands. Together Jyn and Melshi are just able to haul him up.

The ledge is too narrow to fit easily, even for her, and the wire catches along her clothes. Melshi hands her his own vibroblade and she hacks a small hole in the bottom.

From this vantage point, she can make out shiny white armor of stormtroopers, spreading out across the shipyard. She hacks faster.

"It's gonna be tight," she warns as she shimmies through, barbs tearing at her hair and her skin. 

"Just get us the fuck out," Melshi says, voice strained. He pulls himself up first, followed by Kes. Both of them are bleeding heavily along their faces and arms.

On the other side of the wire it becomes clear the nearest building is not flush against the fence but separated by a narrow gap, big enough for two people to fit, if they stood shoulder to shoulder. Jyn grimaces.

Melshi drops first, landing in a roll with a soft thud. Jyn can hear mechanized voices inside the yard getting closer. 

"Go," Kes says, blaster peeking through the wire. 

Pain rockets through her as her bad ankle absorbs her landing and she can't stop the yelp that escapes her. Melshi clamps a hand over her mouth and doesn't let go, even when she tries to bite him. Her eyes water.

Down the alley, she can see white armor pass along the street. Melshi lets her go.

"Clear!" he shouts up to Kes, his voice covered by the chaos inside. 

Kes moves to drop down, an eye still trained on the yard, but his vest snags on the wire, throwing him off balance. He lands on his side, rather than his feet, with sickening thud. 

_Wind whipped her hair as she looked down at Cassian below. Not so much as a twitch. Tears burned her eyes. The plans were still strapped to her belt. She climbed._

Kes yowls in pain and Jyn refocuses on the present. Cassian hadn't made a sound, Kes is still very much alive. 

Melshi is watching their only exit carefully and Jyn crawls over to Kes, her ankle still throbbing. His screams sound like wheezing. _A punctured lung_ she thinks. 

"Dameron, Kes, I'm gonna roll you over okay?" she says, pulling the leather sheath for her largest knife off its rope. "Bite this."

He nods, jaw clenched so tight she's worried he'll break a tooth.

When she rolls him she's greeted by the sight of bone. His left arm took the brunt of the fall and his forearm is bent at an unnatural angle. His shoulder doesn't move with his body and he screams again against the leather.

"Okay, okay, just hold on."

She unwinds her scarf and takes back the sheath from Kes's mouth, replacing the knife and lining it under his arm. "I need you to hold it in okay?"

Kes nods and she pushes the fragmented bone down, wrapping it tightly with her scarf.

"Do you think you can move?" she asks, bending a shoulder under his good arm. He nods again, apparently not trusting himself to talk without screaming.

He manages to get one leg under him but the other almost dangles off his body and they collapse back onto the pavement. 

"That's dislocated," Melshi says softly.

"Shavit!"

"We can't bring him back with us, not now-- the streets are crawling." Melshi whispers.

"I don't know if he has that long," she says, listening to Kes's continued wheezing.

"It's a risk."

"But we don't have much of a choice."

""Pfassk." Melshi sighs. He bends down, helping Kes lean back against the wall. "We need to get back to the safehouse but you're not walking and the streets are crawling with Imps. Can you make it to curfew?"

"Yes," Kes rasps. 

"We're gonna come back," she promises. Kes manages to lift the corner of his mouth in the parody of a smile.

"I know."

\--

Kista is at the radio when they return to the safehouse, blasters drawn. She stands warily, not touching the controls as she raises her hands.

"Bravo is clear," Yana's voice comes through. 

"Copy, waiting on Alpha." 

Melshi directs her away from it, blaster trained between her eyes as he takes over the radio controls.

"This is Alpha-2, Alpha leader critical and absent, package NA."

There's a long pause on the other end.

"Copy Alpha prepare for immediate evac."

Jyn recognizes the voice as Draven's and rushes over.

"This is Alpha-3," she says quickly and she can hear Draven make a noise of frustration. "Will prepare for evac with Alpha leader. Copy?"

"Do not copy, I repeat do not copy."

She doesn't answer, slamming the radio case closed. She turns on Kista, blaster still drawn, stepping in closer.

“What is going on?” Kista asks. Her voice is calm, despite the blaster barrel in her face, that’s either a testament to her longevity as a leader or rings of guilt.

“The warehouse was empty,” Melshi says, positioning himself along the wall behind Jyn, with clear views of the entrance and the hallway to the rest of the house. 

Genuine surprise flashes through the cell leader's eyes. Longevity then, Jyn decides.

She lowers her blaster to her side. Melshi moves his to face the door.

“It was bad intel, the warehouse was empty, our teammate is critically injured. Where's Draze?"

"I don't know."

"Kista."

"I don't! He should've been back before you and all I've had is radio silence."

"Do you have safehouse he doesn't know about?"

"A couple."

"You should head there."

"It couldn't have been Draze!"

"You two were the only people we've interacted with since landing, and he greased the guards and gave us the map."

"Circumstantial."

"Listen, we plan on fucking off this planet. If you're smart, like I think you are, you'll ice him out and regroup."

Jyn startles herself how much she sounds like Saw. It's what he would've done without question, even before the height of his paranoia. But Saw would've also left Kes behind without a second thought.

"Again your decision. But before we leave-- we need a bedroll."

\--

The sirens are silent when they head back. The sun has set and the city is almost quiet as curfew approaches. But other than odd pair of troopers, not much concern about a blown warehouse visible along the streets.

Just like Kista said-- profit first.

The alleyway is empty and there's no response when Jyn and Melshi begin digging through the scrap and trash they'd disguised Kes in earlier. Jyn pats his face.

"Kes, Kes we're back."

He half opens his eyes. Blood dribbles out of the corner of his mouth. Jyn's heart races.

"We don't have a lot of time."

Together she and Melshi lift him gently onto the bedroll, zipping him in. He moans in pain, but nothing like earlier. He's either still hopped up on adrendaline (unlikely) or barely conscious (more likely).

Their plan is a piss poor one. And exploitive. But they don't have much of a choice.

The Ring is filled with shantytowns and the destitute, like any Imperial city where the Empire's riches remain concentrated amongst the most loyal. But even when the curfew horn blows, stormtroopers tend to give leeway to the homeless scattering for shelter, every possession draped on their backs.

Jyn has been that person, darting the landmines of the more compassionate trooper— if such a thing exists— and those who like to kick the less fortunate for fun.

She's betting heavily and improbably on the former.

They roll their packs and clothes in the alley's muck and Jyn musses her hair. They hoist Kes between them, like another pack on their backs. It's a terrible cover but it only has to hold for a bit.

And it almost does.

The curfew horn sounds as they reach the spaceport, and they slip behind the nearest ship as the port’s floodlights turn on, scanning randomly around the edges.

Jyn drops her end of Kes, digging for her comm, scanning for the right frequency.

“Alpha present, requesting location.”

“LZ Echo, minus six” comes the warning, wobbly but friendly. 

Jyn sags with relief at the sound of Bodhi’s voice, all her questions of how or why he was there temporarily pushed aside. They’d disobeyed orders but the Alliance hadn’t left them high and dry. 

She can just see the loading ramp when the loudspeakers crackle to life. 

"Unidentified personnel on landing pad five ."

Jyn and Melshi abandon their careful approach of hiding in the shadows and _run_.

Jyn drops her personal bag and adjusts her hold on Kes’s bedroll. She can hear him groan.

Good, good. Any noise is good. 

The blaster fire peppers the ground near them as the ships engines whirl to life.

“Fuck!” Melshi yells, shooting back in the general direction. 

The next round strafe the foot of the ramp. Snipers, she thinks.

“Landing pad five you are not authorized for take off.”

She’s just stepped into the ramp when a shot grazes her leg. It buckles and she hisses through her teeth, dropping painfully to a knee.

“Erso, you okay?” Melshi yells over the chaos, still firing at unseen targets in the distance. 

She pushes herself to her feet.

“Good!”

“Get Kes, I’ll cover!”

She drags the bedroll up the ramp as fast as she can, Kes jostling over the uneven plating into the mouth of the hold.

Then three things happen in quick succession.

One, Melshi steps up onto the ramp, amid increasing blaster fire.

Two, Jyn turns her head, relieved they made it, and screams for Bodhi to close the ship.

Three, Melshi collapses in a heap, like a puppet with his strings cut, tumbling down to rest at the hinge where the hold meets the ramp.

Jyn stares, still holding Kes in one hand and onto one of the jump seats with the other as the ship tears through atmo.

“Melshi,” she says. No sound from the end of the hold. She tries again, louder. Still nothing.

The ship evens out as they hit space and Jyn abandons Kes, who’s mumbling incoherently in pain.

The metal floor around Melshi is slick with blood.

“No no no no, c’mon Melsh,” she pleads; turning him over. Blood blossoms from the center of his chest. 

“No you fucking ass, I owe you one more, c’mon!" She’s staunching the wound with both hands, applying the full force of her body weight as pressure, but it’s not helping.

She doesn’t register Bodhi at first, kneeling beside her. He rests a pair of fingers to Melshi’s neck, and then wraps them around her wrist.

“Jyn stop, he’s gone.”

She doesn’t move until Bodhi sits, pulling her back gently by the shoulders. He mutters something over Melshi's body and gently closes his eyes.

She stares at her hands, then keels over, heaving. 

—

“We need a medic!” Bodhi calls over the radio as they approach Home One. They were supposed to make another stop first. Bodhi didn’t fight her on it when she insisted against it.

Jyn sits on the jump seats across from where Bodhi helped her lay Kes out. The ship’s medkit was sparse and the bacta patches barely covered his arm but it did have some painkillers, which seemed to have helped. His chest is still slowly rising and falling.

Melshi’s body lies further down the hold, covered with the same stupid bedroll they’d dragged Kes across the Ring with.

The medics rush in when the ramp lowers, loading Kes onto a stretcher and waiting with a hover chair for her. She resists until Bodhi comes down from the cockpit.

“I got it Jyn, go with Kes.”

The world feels underwater. 

She doesn’t notice the trip to the medbay, or how long the doctors take Kes away for. Bodhi comes by, maybe for a minute, maybe an hour.

A nurse brings her water, and waits until she drinks it.

Kes comes back, bandaged and drugged up, but alive.

Jyn breaths. 

—

“What the hell happened?”

“Alpha squad’s intel was compromised, the warehouse was vacant.”

“Why was Lieutenant Rook even on Kuat?”

“He was diverted to Kuat en route from his own mission after Alpha squad missed their initial pick up.”

“Missed?”

“Purposefully, Sergeant Dameron was injured. Sergeant Erso... _requested_ an alternate evac.”

“Sergeant Erso wasn’t medically cleared for this mission!”

“General Madine felt differently.”

A sigh.

“Sergeant Melshi was killed in a firefight as Lieutenant Rook prepared for takeoff.”

“And Jyn?”

A pause.

“Walking wounded. As I understand it she secured Sergeant Dameron aboard while Sergeant Melshi provided cover fire.”

“Permission to be dismissed?”

“Granted— and Andor? She’s in the medbay with Dameron.”

—

"I'm pregnant not an invalid!" 

A very pregnant Shara Bey barrels into the medbay, waving off an anxious medic trailing behind her with a hoverchair.

"Kes Dameron if you die on me I swear I'll kill you!" the words die on her lips, voice cracking as she enters the room, taking in the scene before her.

"I'm okay Shara, I'll be okay," Kes rasps, moving slowly to reach out to grab her hand. It’s complicated by the tangle of wires attached to him. Shara sinks awkwardly to the ground beside him, angrily wiping at her eyes.

Jyn has been sitting in a chair waiting on a med droid to return. Her leg still oozes blood through her hastily wrapped bandage— she’d refused anything more until Kes was out of surgery and bacta. Now that he was, the med droid won’t stop pestering her.

But Shara is murmering quietly in her husband's ear and Jyn decides it's not worth interrupting an intensly private moment, no matter how much she cares for both Kes and Shara.

She moves to leave as unobtrusively as she can-- which isn't very, considering. Shara stops her, hopping to her feet with surprising grace.

"Jyn wait!" she says. Jyn turns to face her, leaning heavily on the back of the chair, and is envoloped in an incredibly awkward hug, Shara's stomach between them and her arms just barely reaching around Jyn's neck. 

"Thank you," she whispers fiercely, "Thank you for bringing him back."

Jyn opens her mouth but the words get stuck in her throat. Shara pulls back and rests a hand gently on her cheek. "Are you okay?"

Jyn nods, not trusting herself not to burst into tears. Shara gives her a concerned look but lets her go.

The hall is empty and cooler and Jyn tilts her head back, breathing slowly through her nose. She rubs away the few rebellious tears from the corner of her eye.

She starts walking, leg mostly dragged in a weird hop behind her. It reminds her of Cassian's long gait those first few months after Scarif.

She means to end up in her bunk but instead she pushes open the door to the training room. 

Time of the ship is hours of ahead of Kuat and the room dark save for the glow of stars through the viewport along the far side of the room.

Jyn doesn't bother wrapping her hands before taking a swing at a punching. It stings the open cuts from the barbed wire. She still wants to cry. 

She hits harder. 

Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Jyn!"

She heard him the first couple of times, aware of his presence from the moment he stepped into the room. She continues punching.

"Jyn."

He's exasperated now and she guesses about five feet behind her. She stops the bag from swinging.

"The intel was bad," she tells him.

"I know."

"They killed Melshi."

"I know."

Cassian looks, chagrined maybe? She can't really tell. It's an acknowledgement of the disaster but there's something else he's actively trying not to say.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Cassian, your sabacc face is shit ," she goads. It's not really but she'd spent enough time watching Bodhi watch Cassian to call his bluff. "So out with it."

He breathes deeply through his nose. "Going on that mission was reckless."

"Reckless? My team needed me, we've already been short without Solo, this was too important to risk it going south."

"It went south anyway!"

"And who's fault was that?"

"Damnit Jyn, you were-- are!-- injured!" he says, voice rising. Hers raises to match, beginning to echo in the empty room.

"I was fine! I can walk, I can run, I can shoot."

Cassians groans in frustration. "Even if that were true, you went back Dameron against orders."

"He would've died!"

"Kes knows the risks, you all do."

"That's not a good enough reason to leave someone to die."

Cassian frowns, "Going back is what got Melshi killed." 

"Fuck you, Cassian, you don't know that. We were burned anyway and he wasn't going to leave Kes behind either!" she spits, her voice pitching high at the end. She turns away from him, taking off at an awkward limp toward the door that undercuts her sharp heel turn.

Cassian catches up with her easily, stepping in front of her. 

"It could have gotten you killed."

"A lot of things can get me killed, it doesn't mean they're not worth doing!"

Her chest feels like it's going to explode. Cassian stands in front of her, arms crossed, looking like he's searching for the right thing to say. She scoffs, and pushes past him again, trying desperately to regulate her breathing to no avail.

He grabs her wrist and she whips around ready to punch him in the nose. He catches her fist, crowds her space and then is kissing her, his free hand cupping her head. It's rough, and sloppy and she responds on instinct, leaning into it, letting him walk them backwards until her back hits the padded training room wall.

Some part of her has been waiting for this, craving it even, but her brain feels jumbled and her heart races in a way that has nothing to do with lust or want or _need_.

She opens her eyes in a panic, pushing at Cassian's chest. He takes half a step back quickly, looking down at her, his skin flushed. He still holds her fist loosely in his hand.

"Tell me you don't want this," he says softly, voice cracking. She wants to scream or cry or hit something, maybe all three at once.

"I... I... I can't," she chokes out, pulling her hand out of his. He takes another full step back, a guarded expression falling over his face, save for the tightness in his jaw.

"I want... I can't...I just..." she's trying to explain, she doesn't even know _what_ but it feels like she's blubbering. Her aching leg is on fire. It gives out and she stumbles, sliding down against the wall, wheezing. 

He's kneeling beside her an instant, concern washing away his guardedness. He moves to touch her again but aborts the movement, his hand hovering briefly by her shoulder before dropping lamely to his side. He leaves half a foot between them.

"What can I do, Jyn?"

He doesn't ask if she's okay because he knows she's not and for some reason that's what finally breaks her. Ugly, choking sobs. She can't remember the last time she cried so hard. Not during any of her years with Saw, not on Eadu, not even after Scarif. 

She reaches and out and grasps his wrist tightly enough to hurt. He lets her. Slowly, he sits down beside her, still leaving a small amount of space between their bodies despite her clinging to his arm like a lifeline. Slowly, the sobs give way to only tears tracking down down her face. Her breathing eases into a rattle rather than gasps. 

Cassian breaks the silence. "Can I look at your leg?"

She nods.

"I need you to say it, Jyn."

"Yes."

He unwraps the bloodstained, torn strip of the shirt-- his shirt-- that she'd used as a bandage on the ship. She hisses.

"Okay?"

"Yes."

He frowns as he examines the blaster wound, long fingers gently prodding the rest of her leg. He pokes at her ankle and she winces again.

"Why didn't you go to the medbay."

"I did. But Shara came and I... I needed out."

"Okay," he says, not pushing the subject. "It at least needs a bacta patch."

She nods again, then rembembering his request.

"Okay, yeah."

"Do you trust me?"

She pauses. Breathes in deeply.

"Yes."

He helps her to her feet, giving her space to walk on her own but catching her arm when she immediately stumbles. She leans heavily on him the short walk back to his quarters, wincing with each step but grateful he doesn't comment.

She sits on the edge of his bunk, memory of the last time she'd been here flooding her with embarrassment. Anxiety begins crawling it's way back to her throat. 

Cassian pulls out at medkit and a soft pair of pants from his locker.

"Do you trust me?" he asks again.

"Yes."

Jyn unbuttons the top of her torn, bloodied pants and he helps her carefully shimmy out of them and into the wide soft training pants, rolling the right leg well above her knee. The process is devoid of any of the tension that permeated the air last time she was here, it's almost clinical. The bubble of anxiety recedes slightly.

Cassian cleans out the wound with a stinging antiseptic and neatly applies the bacta patch, wrapping it once so it stays put. He makes a face when he gets to her ankle, swollen and varying unnatural shades of yellow and purple and blue. He starts wrapping the bandage around her ankle, then under the arch of foot, across the top of her foot and back. He repeats it several more times-- around, under, over.

"You can take my bunk," he says when he finishes, tucking everything back into the small red kit. "I have an extra bedroll I stole from the quartermaster."

"Don't be ridiculous," she snaps, "I'm not kicking you out of your own bed. I can take the bedroll or I can head back to my own bunk."

"You can barely walk, Jyn."

"Then you can just stay here with me. I'm not that big."

She'd pushed him away only an hour ago and now she's begging him to crawl into bed with her. She feels slimey about it immediately. 

Cassian pauses, assessing her. "Okay, fine."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I'm going to hop in the sonic and finish a report first though okay?"

She's not convinced but her body is coming down from-- well, everything, so she nods. He helps her lift her bad leg up and disappears into the other room, door closing behind him.

She wills herself to wait up, to make sure he follows through and doesn't try to do something stupid or gallant. But the bed is warm and softer than her own bunk and certainly anything she'd slept on in the past week and it'd be oh so easy to shut her eyes for just a moment--

\--

She wakes in the morning and her breath comes easily. She doesn't feel great, physically or mentally, but would venture to say it's _better_. She's alone in the bunk and a spare bedroll rests rolled up at the foot of the locker. Her fatigue pants lay over the chair, a newly mended patch visible in the light leaking from the 'fresher door.

She sits up, swinging her legs over the bed. Her right leg is stiff and the bright white bandages around her ankle stand out against the metallic grey of the room. 

Limping over, she leans on the doorframe, watching as Cassian drags a razor down the column of his throat. He's shirtless and Jyn can see the hands-length surgical scar at the base of his spine, one of the few that scatter his torso.

"You have a mission," she says. He only shaves when he's going undercover, otherwise lets it grow. Kes always ribs him about it, saying he should join them in the Pathfinders-- Madine doesn't enforce any grooming standard.

"Yes," he says, even though she had posed a statement rather than a question, his head still tilted back as the razor makes another pass. She wants to run her thumb over the smooth skin it leaves behind. 

"When do you leave?" she asks instead.

"Ten hours."

He rinses the razor, setting it on the edge of metallic sink and finally turning to look at her. Her heart is racing but it's different than yesterday's erratic beat. It's different than the last time she was in this room, injured and vulnerable. 

She steps into the small 'fresher.

Cassian doesn't move. 

She feels steady, sure-footed, despite the obvious injuries. She crowds his space, reaching a hand to rest on his neck, fingers teasing at the end of his hair. He makes no move to back away.

He'd found her, he hadn't pushed when she rejected him. He'd given her space and talked her down from a panic attack. He'd dressed her injuries-- not for the first time and surely not the last. Her heart feels warm with overwhelming fondness. 

Cassian Andor is a good man. 

She pulls him to her, surging forward to meet his lips with hers and he responds eagerly but cautiously, none of roughness of the day before. She pulls back a fraction and looks up to him.

"I want this," she whispers.

The switch flips.

When he kisses her again she groans-- _force_ this is what she's wanted, for longer than she cares to admit-- and the sound only spurs him on. This is the confident, beautiful man she knows and it's so incredible hot. The thought seems reductive after everything they've been through but her skin is on fire and she does. not. care. She needs him to touch every inch of it and that still won't be enough.

He lifts her up onto the sink, stepping between her legs, careful to avoid her injury. His hand tangles in her hair to gently pull her head back and suck at her neck. She whines, grabbing at his shoulders and arms desperate for him to be closer. When he doesn't budge, she grabs his belt. He pulls away to look at her.

"What do you think you're doing?" he says with fake severity, the corner of his lip quirked. She gives him an impish grin.

"Having fun?"

He leans forward, resting his forehead on her shoulder. "You're going to be the death of me."

"Please," she whispers into the back of his neck. He shivers.

"I have a mission."

"Ten hours," she counters, continuing her work at his belt. He curses in a language she doesn't recognize and it sets her freshly aflame. "Please, Cassian. I want this."

He stands up abruptly, scooping her off the sink. She tenses momentarily, out of habit. Cassian responds to her question before she can ask, whispering low and hoarse into her ear.

"If we're going to do this I'm going to make sure you remember exactly why you want this."

\--

They lay facing each other after, the outside of his hand barely brushing hers.

"I can't have you get killed," he whispers, breaking the comfortable silence. She rolls over until she's tucked to his side. It feels forward but then again, she'd already breeched that levy. He allows her in, resting his chin on her head. Neither of them have bothered to pick their clothes up off the floor. 

"That's not your job," she whispers into his shoulder. "Or your place."

"I know."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Then trust I will always do everything to come back."

The hand trailing along her back stops and he squeezes her closer.

"Promise me the same," she insists.

"Jyn--"

"Don't promise me you'll come back, just promise you'll try."

"I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SNAK = SNAFU, but altered to "Situation Normal, All Karked" entired because I began laughing at the idea of rebels going around calling things a snak.  
> SGT = standard galactic time  
> LZ = landing zone, which I use interchangably with landing pad here.
> 
> This chapter was also by far the hardest for me to write because it required more of a committment to writing out a mission scene, which is not my strong suit.
> 
> The Leia/Command scene also is not entirely relevant but a personal favorite idea of Leia proposing the Alliance literally use her face on propaganda as a fuck you to the Empire/Vader, whom she has now escaped twice.
> 
> And yes, Melshi is a fan of using emojis in internal comms.


	8. where none is the number

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Resistance, in limbo.

Jyn kicks the landing gear of her ship, cursing up a storm that would make a Hutt blush. 

She's not a bad pilot!

She won’t, even in her worried subconscious, give Cassian the satisfaction of being right.

She's just stranded at a trading outpost with a hunk of scrap and no communication from anyone in the Resistance and is desperately trying not to think what that could possibly mean.

She gives the gear one final kick and storms back into the cockpit, trying the radio one more time.

Nothing from the Raddus, nothing from Cassian or Leia or Poe. Black Squardron are scattered to the wind and wouldn't be much help anyway unless they could bring her engine parts she won’t know how to repair anyway. There's only one other option she can think of.

"I gotta say, can't wait to hear how the hell you ended up here," she says making her way to the cockpit, avoiding the small nests of feathery creatures in the hold. 

The hell?

Chewbacca roars back at her.

"I bet, luckily we have the time for you to share."

—

Rey waits cross legged near the wreckage of a ship that screams First Order. 

Jyn knows the Jedi girl is a pilot savant, BeeBee-Ate hadn’t stopped buzzing about the fact since it’s return and had driven Poe to agitation at the thought that he might not be the Resistance’s only hot shot pilot anymore. 

_“And a Jedi,” Jyn had snarked to him. “Might as well retire now old man.”_

_“Pot, kettle,” he’d replied grumpily to the dig at his age. "And she's not technically a Jedi."_

_It made Cassian laugh— Poe, acting like he was ancient; and worry— her, acting like she was still Poe's age._

There was no way the crash wasn't intentional. Which, if that was the case _—_ there was a lot to unpack there.

The girl— woman really, Jyn couldn’t determine her age ( _a cold night on Ord Mantell. ‘Oh so now Liana is some grown woman, eh?’ ‘When it suits my purposes’_ )— looks unfocused, thumbing the small metallic bracelet in her hand.

Chewie frets as he ushers her onto the ship, wrapping her in a thermal blanket. 

_Han waved away the annoyed growls from their pilot, who’d set the Falcon in autopilot for the sole purpose of scolding them and making sure they ate._

_Jyn curled between Kes and the bulkhead, caf her preferred form of sustenance. She cupped the warm mug between her frozen hands, listening as the argument escalated between the two co-pilots._

_“Well her royal pain in the ass isn’t here! Is she?”_

_Chewbacca’s retort made Yana’s eyes widen, and she stifled a laugh with such an abrupt movement she scattered the sabacc cards across the dimmed dejarik table, to Melshi’s despair._

_An indignant noise came from the cockpit._

_“I really need to learn more Shyriiwook.”_

_Kes laughed at her. “I don’t think they teach that one in the beginner classes.”_

Jyn notes the bruised temple and burn marks on her arm. Her arm wraps are dirtied with sweat and blood. She looks _—_ feral.

She wonders if the Alliance thought the same when they pulled her from Wobani, wrists bloodied and chafed, shovel in hand. Despite all their snarking about it, she'd never thought to ask Melshi.

Or Kaytoo.

Her heart pangs. Every years-old loss has pulled harder at her heart lately. As the Resistance swelled in reponse to the First Order, each new tragedy pulled a decades old war to the surface, scalding long healed wounds. 

It's enough to cause despair without something cling to, the way Cassian and Leia do with their ongoing quest for a just galaxy. Jyn's not one for much faith in anything nowadays but she's still stubborn as hell and that's what keeps her floating above the wide yaw of despondency.

Jyn leaves a cup of water and a cup of caf in front of Rey, heading to the cockpit where Chewie is examining the blue bracelet Rey had with her. Jyn looks at the map on the dash.

"Crait?"

Chewie nods and Jyn shudders, "Why that hunk of rock? That's been out of commission for years."

"It's a rescue."

Rey had followed them to the cockpit, caf clutched between her hands Jyn noted approvingly. 

"I— I was on the Supremacy."

Jyn's eyebrow shot up.

"Snoke is dead."

Her brow had to be hitting her hairline now. Both those facts explain the ship, and perhaps it’s deliberate destruction but also generate so many more.

Rey's knuckles are white from her grip on the mug. Jyn reaches out gently, loosening it from her grip. Rey lets her, worrying a hangnail bloody instead.

"He...they—“ she says, stumbling over the plural. 

There’s only one other person who could constitute they. Jyn’s blood runs cold, more in tune with Poe’s pain than Leia’s suffering. She feels guilty each time, as if she’s choosing between two of her closest friends. But Ben Solo was forever a boy from a memory. Poe Dameron was alive, a grown man, not perfect but trying.

“They made me watch. They were shooting at the Raddus, shooting down the transports."

Jyn's pretty sure she could have smashed the mug she'd taken in her fist out of pure fear.

_Cassian._

_Like dega vu, he said. It'll be fine, she placated.  
_

She wants to freak out but she needs to keep a clear head. She's always been a good woman in a crisis and she wills herself to believe it now.

_"What do you mean compromised?" Kes yelled. Jyn rested her hands on his shoulders and he pushed her away. "How do we have no comms with base?"_

_"I'd like to know that too Dameron, but yelling isn't gonna help us figure it out," she snapped. Kes deflated and that was worse. Gently, carefully Jyn approached him, arms wide, wrapping them around him. He stilled beneath her, wrapping his own arms carefully around her back, voice cracking._

_"Shara's on base, she just got back from her mission before we left."_

_"I'm sure it's fine, I'm sure she's fine."_

_"But what if they're not?"_

_"It will be. Has to be."_

She shakes the memory of Hoth from her mind. Pull it together, Erso. 

Much like in her nightmares, she's the highest ranking member of the Resistance in this situation. She needs to _lead_.

"Someone has clearly made it to Crait, and Force protect her but General Organa has never been the best at delegating. I'd bet good credits she has the other tracking beacon still."

Leia truly was terrible at delegating, always had been, always in the thick of it. She's hedging about her having the beacon, but Rey doesn't know that.

"If not, then likely General Andor, or Admiral Holdo, or possibly Commander Dameron. None of them would go down without a fight I can assure you."

Rey looks slightly mollified on that front, though her expression is still dark. It's familiar to Jyn in a way she can't quite identify. Chewie's giving her a look, like he's seeing right through her rallying speech and she narrows his eyes at him. _Don't you kriffing dare ruin this._

“We head to Crait and work from there. Do you know how to shoot a turret gun?”

“In theory.”

“Great, that’s where I’m at too.”

Chewie makes a strangled noise, begging them not to ruin the ship. It coaxes a breath of a laugh out of Rey.

“If I break it I’ll fix it,” she promises. That seems the placate the Wookiee, who ruffles her hair and is rewarded with a wane smile. Jyn ducks before he can do the same to her, glaring.

—

They don't fire a single shot. It doesn't ease Jyn's nerves.

Instead Chewbacca skirts the Falcon around the back of the decrepit base at Rey's insistence. The base has collapsed near where the Falcon lands and in the distance the faint roar of cannon fire can be made out.

Jyn holds back any comments in deference to the trust Chewie is clearly placing in the young woman. He's always been more than willing to call bantha-shit on a bad idea so Jyn relaxes in the face of his quiet confidence.

Slightly.

It's quiet as they disembark, the only sign of life the crystalline foxes curled together near the rubble. Rey steps forward, closing her eyes, breathing deep the way Jyn has seen Leia do from time to time, reaching out to something _beyond_.

The vulptices scatter as the rocks begin to rumble around them. The weapons-fire in the distance stops and the rocks begin to move. The smallest ones first, skittering aross the frozen ground, and then the boulders start to shake.

_Poe giggled in his chair, legs swinging excitedly as the pebbles swirled around him. Shara looked relieved, laying back on the grass._

_"Do you want to stay forever?" she begged. Leia laughed, tucking the skirt of her white ceremonial dress out of the way and raising a new group of pebbles._

_"It's tempting. I just hope this one is as easily impressed by my meager Jedi skills as Poe," she said, rubbing her rounded stomach lightly. Her brother sighed crossing his arms until they disappeared inside the dark Jedi robes._

_"There's more to being a Jedi than just lifting rocks."_

_"Lighten up kid," Han laughed. Luke frowned briefly before giving in and grinning, raising his hand. Another chunk of pebbles rose up, swooping through Leia's like a ship._

_"Show off."_

The boulders explode out from their standstill, coming to an abrupt halt in the air around them and revealing the beraggled group below.

Jyn sees Poe and Finn at the front. Poe's eyes are wide, mouth dropped in more awe than perhaps it should, given such a favored upbringing. Finn looks equally amazed, smiling widely.

The rocks crash to the sides.

"Rey!" Finn shouts, running toward her and scooping her into a hug. Rey returns it eagerly, looking like a completely different person than the feral girl who stepped out of the ruins of Snoke's ship, or even the powerful Jedi she'd embodied moments before. She looks relieved, even happy.

Behind their reunion Jyn finally spots Cassian, leading Leia over the uneven ground. Her knees tremble with relief. Leia spots her first, shooing Cassian away. She watches him protest briefly until Connix steps in to take his place and Cassian finally turns.

Jyn meets him halfway, their bodies crashing into each other in a tangle of reassurance. Cassian hands find her face, scanning for injuries.

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

"You dropped off the grid."

"Rey said the Raddus was shot down."

Cassian looks pained. "We have a lot to catch up on," he says, glancing over to where Poe is directing the remaining members of the Resistance onto the Falcon. 

When the tunnel opened up, Jyn had expected a flood of soldiers. The flood it turns out, is nothing more than a trickle.

"What the hell happened?"

—

They shouldn't all fit on the ancient ship and yet they do, more comfortably than Jyn hopes, even amongst the porg nests that seemed to have multiplied since Chewie had picked her up. 

She helps the survivors settle into nooks and cranies, leaving Leia to the only proper bunk on the ship. The general had yet to step inside, or sleep, spending her time in the cockpit with Rey, speaking softly. 

They both looked as though they'd received a simultaneous punch to the gut as the Falcon made its hasty exit from Crait's atmosphere, affected by something more than the clusterfuck that had landed the Resistance in its current predicament. Whatever it was, Jyn didn't ask.

"Major Erso?" a voice asks, jarring her from her spying position. Finn stands behind her, posture ram-rod soldier straight, the same way as the first time they met. 

"Finn," she says, relaxing her stance. He follows suit. "You're certainly looking better than last I saw you."

"And I feel it, ma'am."

"We can cut the ma'am bantha at least, I'm not that old."

"General Organa said the same thing."

Jyn laughs. Sounds about right.

"But sorry to bother you—" Finn continues. Jyn waves away the notion.

"It's not like I have much else going on."

"It's Rose. Rose Tico," he amends at her questioning look. "She was severely injured on Crait and we don't have much by way of medical supplies but we're looking for somewhere to at least lay her out, with a few of the others."

Jyn glances back toward the the cockpit. "Got it. Do you think she's okay to move?"

"She hasn't been responsive so as okay as she'll ever be."

"I'll meet you in the hold in a few minutes." 

—

Cassian thinks Leia is more grateful for Jyn's proposal than she lets on, happy, even eager to covert the Falcon's bunk into a makeshift infirmary. She hadn't so much step foot inside, but she had easily located Solo's final stash of Corellian rum with a harsh laugh and offered it to Finn in lieu of a proper medkit. She sticks mostly to the cockpit. There are oppresive memories to be found there as well, but also a support system.

Not that she would ever acknowledge that's what Chewie and Rey are, or that she needs one to begin with, the stubborn tauntaun.

Poe on the otherhand, had barely left the bunk, only outlasted by Finn who's presence was a constant at the younger Tico's side.

He tended to sit facing Finn and the door, while the other man faced Rose and Cassian knows her older sister's death was one of many sitting heavy Poe's shoulders.

Finn runs his thumb over Rose's hand and Poe is listening to whatever story Finn is telling enthralled, whatever it's about clearly an escape from the misery of the last few days. Cassian even spots an honest to gods smile.

"Spying?" Jyn whisper in his ear. He doesn't flinch and she frowns when he turns to her. "I thought I had you that time." Cassian snorts.

Jyn leans in to see what he's been looking at. 

"She's so much older than I remember," she says, looking at Rose who had yet to regain consciousness. Cassian remembers when she was a kid, trailing her older sister and Poe around base. 

Rose was quiet while Paige was loud and brash, and one of the few people Poe had ever had any sort of sustained relationship with, when they were both young and new to the Resistance. Certainly the only one Cassian had ever known. There had been a boy, at the Academy, according to Jyn, but Poe never spoke about him.

The fledging romance had ended years ago, long before her death, but the compartmentalization Cassian knows is going on in his head right now is both impressive and concerning.

Poe pushes out of chair and rests a hand on Finn's shoulder, a moment longer than customary. 

_Kes clapped him on the back, eyes bright. Cassian shifted out of the way, shrugging off the touch._

_"You've been with Shara too long," he said_

_"Alarmingly tactile," Jyn agreed, pulling a long drink from the bottle being passed around._

_Shara's laugh was light and twinkling, "Who's to say it wasn't the other way around?"_

Jyn shuffles away from the door quickly to Cassian's other side.

"Have you talked to him yet?"

"Haven't had the chance."

"Be nice."

"I'm always nice."

Poe slips out the door, looking warily at the pair of them.

"Um, hi?"

"You kriffing idiot!" Jyn says, grabbing Poe around the shoulders and hugging him close.

"Oof, Jyn," he says, arms flailing slightly at his side. "Missed you too?"

He looks over to where Cassian is leaning against the door, bewildered. _What is up with her?_ The question is apparent in his wide eyes and Cassian sighs. Jyn clearly, was choosing a different tact. 

Jyn pulls back, looking at him almost fondly for a brief moment, before smacking him hard upside the head.

"Ow! Concussion!"

"Tough shit, Dameron. Mutiny? Are you karking kidding me?"

"How?" He turns to glare at Cassian, "That's what you led with?"

"No. But she had a right to know."

Jyn doesn't seem to notice Poe's darkening face, continuing to scold.

"I know you don't like taking orders--"

"Yeah, I get it Jyn."

Jyn glowers. "If gonna make rash decisions you have to be able to eat the consequences,” she says sharply and Cassian knows this is not the first iteration of this argument they’ve had.

Poe opens his mouth to say something, before changing his mind and turning sharply down the hall. Jyn looks like she has half a mind to follow him.

"Let him go," Cassian says mildly. Jyn huffs.

"I'm worried."

"I know."

"We weren't like this."

Cassian raises a disbelieving eyebrow. 

"We weren't," Jyn insists. "He's being reckless like he doesn't care what happens to himself. It's almost nihilist."

"I would say that’s a bit revisionist and would add you didn't know me before."

"I do now though."

Cassian shakes his head. "I saw myself as a tool. My own future was inconsequential to the success of the cause. That wasn't anything the Alliance drilled into me, it was my interpretation. Success is what kept me level. Poe's allegiance to the cause is only rivaled by maybe Leia herself but he hasn't had a win in a long time, each problem a result of his leadership, in his view."

"No level."

"Exactly."

"So what am I supposed to do?"

"Nothing."

"I'm not very good at that."

Cassias smiles at her. "He needs to level himself. It can't be an assigned task."

"Unless he gets himself killed first," Jyn says darkly.

"He won't," Cassian promises, "That's what he has us for."

Jyn sighs and Cassian wraps his arms around her, pulling her back to his chest and burying his face in her hair, breathing in deeply.

"Kes'll be happy," he mutters.

"Mmm?"

"Saved him a reprimand," he says with a light laugh. She turns in his arms smacking his shoulder lightly. 

"Ass."

—

Morale drops precipitously along with their supplies. Someone briefly suggests eating the porgs before they back track in the face of Chewie's roars. The only bright spot is that five days after their escape from Crait, Rose Tico wakes up. 

The lone medic who made it out looks about ready to cry, apologizes that she has no pain meds and offers her a shot of the waning stash of rum instead.

Rose tosses it back , making a face. "So, what did I miss?"

It's a weak joke but it does the trick. Finn grins broadly and launches into the tale of their escape, courtesy of Rey, who Rose looks star struck to meet. Rey smiles and nods along politely until she's able to sink to the back of the bunk and slipping out. 

Jyn follows her out.

"There's no escaping the hero label now," Jyn says, leaning on the door to Falcon's cockpit. 

Rey startles more than she would expect of a Jedi (not that she has vast experience with them, one a recluse, the other a politician turned last hope for the galaxy, and the last a genocidal asshole) and whips around in the too large seat to face her. Jyn recognizes the look of exhaustion from the mirror— beyond a need to stay awake, rather, a refusal to sleep.

"Do you mind?" she asks, pointing to Chewie's empty seat. She'd last seen him snoring near the ship's mechanical closet.

"Sure," Rey says distracted. "Sorry if my exit was rude."

"No one really noticed," Jyn assures.

"Except you," Rey points out, unfurling slightly in her chair. Jyn shrugs.

"Old habits. Caf bean?" she asks, handing out the small package.

"Uh—"

"If you're going to refuse to sleep, it'll help you feel somewhat like a functional human without getting addicted to stims like the rest of them," Jyn says, popping another in her mouth. Another one of her and Poe's arguments, when he'd first visited from the Academy. _'Everyone does it,'_ he'd said. _'If everyone jumped off a moving speeder would you?'_ she'd asked derisively.

Turns out the answer to that was absolutely. Loyal idiot.

"I forgot I stowed some in my pack," she explains to Rey, rattling the bag.

Rey takes one cautiously, her face lighting up with surprise when she eats it. 

"It's sweet!"

Jyn laughs. Rey takes another, savoring it. It's the same ease Jyn had only seen momentarily when she'd reunited with Finn.

"The only caf Unkar had in his rations was bitter and powdery and even that was more credits than it was worth."

It's a matter of fact statement not a plea for pity but Jyn feels for her. Her own upbringing had been fucked in more ways than one but the majority had at least been spent more or less well fed.

Yeah, because stealing's free, she thinks.

"Sounds like a kriffing wastoid," is what she says instead.

Rey snorts, "That's a word for it." She hands the beans back to Jyn. "You should ration them for a later time." 

That does make her pity Rey, even though she's sure the other woman wants nothing less. 

"Keep it," Jyn insists. Rey begins to protest. "Seriously, keep it. I'm not the one who's avoiding sleeping and anyway, it's the least the Resistance can do for saving our hides."

Rey looks uncomfortable with any reminder of her heroics but retracts the package, tucking them into a compartment in the Falcon's dash. 

There's a long pause before Rey lets out a harsh breath. 

"I can't be the Resistance's hero. I didn't save everyone— I wasn't even able to save most people, I got lucky on Crait. But Master Skywalker—" she pauses. Jyn doesn't interrupt, letting her work through it. The pieces begin to connect themselves. "It's my fault, Luke. Snoke—he found out."

Jyn abruptly realizes the adrift look she'd seen before, when they found her in the wreckage of Snoke's ship. It's the same one Poe had worn when he woke up in the medbay. 

_"He tore into my fucking head!"_

It's not her place to ask, and even then, not her place to offer up Poe's trauma either. 

She doesn't know Rey particularly well nor does she consider herself the best advice giver. Bodhi was the level headed sounding board. But despite that fact and despite her general outward demeanor, it never stopped some people from approaching her. 

_"Pava, I'm not a therapist," she said, ducking the blond's swing. Pava laughed, freewheeling as always as she stepped back and came in at a new angle._

_"Yeah, but Poe said—"_

_"Dameron's an idiot, you should know that better than anyone." Pava laughed harder, no sign she was out of breath as she whirled the staff at Jyn. Left, right, left, right._

_"For SURE. But— what do you think?"_

At least Jess always asked outright rather than laying out situation and forcing Jyn to parse through it. 

Unkind, Jyn, her conscious mutters. She sighs.

"Hero isn't something we can choose for ourselves, it's an assigned label. Everyone bears that differently. General Organa was just as much the hero as Luke and Han after the first Death Star but she turned the recognition down. Solo was insufferable about what a big hero he was, even when he refused to officially enlist. Luke was modest to the point of ridiculousness."

Rey looked skeptical.

"Plus, people are quick kingmakers and equally quick to forget. After Scarif everyone wanted to pin medals on our chests until the Yavin happened. General Andor and I weren't even conscious to see it, just Bodhi."

"Rogue One, right? Chewie told me some stories, from the war."

_The first one_ drops like lead between them.

"Most of them died when the Death Star fired. Most of the rest before the war ended. You're never going to be able to save everyone, no matter how hard you try or how heroic people think you are," Jyn says frowning. "Now, Cassian and I are the only remaining members."

Rey nods and Jyn isn't sure if her words have helped at all.

"I didn't realize General Andor was your husband."

That certainly wasn't where Jyn expected the conversation to turn. She raises an eyebrow. Rey looks sheepish.

"I saw you two reunite on Crait and I asked around. Or, I asked Finn and he asked around."

Jyn has a distinct idea of who Finn would have asked, the traitor.

"He is," she confirms "Although people have been speculating about that long before we ever were officially married."

_"For all that's good in the Force, Erso, why not?" Kes nagged when he and Shara returned from their second— proper—honeymoon, some seven years after they first married. Poe wriggled in her arms, reaching for his dad who scooped him up only to immediately place him down again in the face of more wriggled resistance._

_"First kids, now marriage, you're really encouraging this all out of order Dameron."_

_Kes tossed his hands in the air. "Because you two are more devoted to one another than anyone I've ever met and you deserve to be happy."_

_She softened, "We are happy, Kes. I promise."_

"Is that... difficult?"

Jyn is off put by the deep dive into her personal life this conversation had turned into but Rey seems sincere, not nosy. She pauses to consider.

"Yes, no. Sometimes. We met in the middle of one war, got married at the start of another, it's more the status quo than anything at this point. If it's stressful it's because everything about this fight is stressful.” 

"The fighting, thats's not stressful. Even without this, awakening Luke called it, I know I can fight," she says, gesturing vaguely at the air between them as if that's where all the secrets of the Force lay. Jyn had never seen the girl fight, only listened to Finn describing their chaotic escape from Jakku. But she'd been to places like Niima Outpost—Rey wouldn't brag about skills she couldn't back up. 

Rey tumbles through the rest of her concerns. "It's the inbetween, I just— people hear Jedi and that comes with expectations I don't think I can meet."

"I'd say you're meeting them."

Rey sighs, unconvinced, dragging the hands over her face. She's washed away most of the blood but the bruise on her face had deepened to purple. It would be particularly nasty in a few days time.

"I just can't, see myself, fitting into the Resistance. I don't see the space."

"I was a criminal before the Alliance found me. I promise you didn't see myself fitting in either. Everyone on this ship had a different experience, what matters now is they're all working toward the same cause."

Force, she sounded like Cassian. She suppressed a shudder at the thought. Leia would never let her hear the end of it.

"Even if that experience is... unique?" Rey asks, vaguely. Despite being ruffled at the intrusive questions directed at her, Jyn doesn't push.

"Especially then. I convinced myself I didn't need help from anyone and all that got me was an Imperial cell. Rogue One— we were all vastly different but we trusted one another. Sometime that's all you need.'

"I have Finn, he trusts me," Rey offers uncertain. Jyn snorts in disbelief and Rey looks mildly affronted. 

"You're a full fledged member of the Resistance now, I promise you you'll have him and more."

—

"Sometimes Jyn is more cryptic than Luke ever was," Poe tells him, poking his head through the door of the cockpit.

"I think she reserves that especially for you."

"She said, 'You need to talk to Rey' like it was an order. Who orders someone to be friends with someone else?"

"Yes, I believe her name is Jyn Erso, have you met her before?" Cassian replies dryly. 

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you."

"And she said talk, you said friends because you have a pathological need to have people like you."

"I do not."

Cassian stares.

"Okay, maybe occassionally."

He holds the stare a moment longer, waiting a beat before archinhg a singular eyebrow in a well rehearsed move.

"Okay, fine yes."

"Acceptance is the first step."

Poe _huffs_ and fidgets in the doorway. "So have you seen Rey?" he asks, resigned. Cassian smiles. 

"Not since General Organa forced her to take a break from piloting. Have you asked Finn?

Poe shuffles awkwardly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "He was with Rose, I figured, ah, they would want some alone time, now that she's awake."

"Ah."

"Yes, ah."

"Not quite a bond then?"

"Maybe not how I'd thought. But I'd still trust him with my life."

"You're a good kid, Poe."

"I'm hardly a kid anymore."

"I changed your diapers, you're a kid."

Poe rolls his eyes and disappears from the cockpit. 

—

Cassian quietly makes his way through the Falcon. Most of the rebels are sleeping—it's deep into the early morning on ship time— on bedrolls and in makeshift bunks. He finds Jyn curled in Chewbacca's abandoned spot by a mechanical closet, arms wrapped around her legs, and a familar jacket sporting a starbird on its sleeve around her shoulders. 

Cassias smiles— Jyn would never knowingly be so patriotic.

He crouches down to her level, knees and back protesting and gently shakes her awake. 

She startles, but it's light. Years hadn't faded her reflexes but the brief interlude of peace had faded some of the nightmares. Knives and blasters were stowed inside drawers rather than on bedside tables and she would gather her surroundings before lashing out at whatever perceived threat was there.

Her eyes focus on him and she relaxes back against the bulkhead, pushing her graying fringe away from her face. The low red light casts her face in shadows.

"We found a base," he whispers.

She sits up in an instant and he helps her to her feet. "Recycled?"

"No, Outer Rim. Ajan Kloss. Leia's suggestion."

"She had a uninhabited outer rim planet at the ready?" she whispers as they tiptoe through the main hold. "We barely have people, much less supplies. How are we going to pull a base out of thin air."

"She said she's been a few times before, with Luke. And it's never been on any official scouting report, it should be well off the First Order's radar which is the more pressing issue at the moment."

Jyn gives a full body shrug. "If it means we're off this flying rust bucket."

"That's the spirit," Cassian says, placing a kiss on her temple. "But don't let Chewie hear you talking trash about his ship."

It’s barely dusk planet side when they land. Rebels muster off the ship with more energy than he’s seen the past few weeks, everyone eager to stretch their legs on solid ground.

“It’s so green,” he hears Rey murmur to Rose as she and Finn help her down the ramp.

Poe is off like a shot, BeeBee-Ate hot on his heels, ostensibly on a scouting trip Leia approved but entirely too excited to explore the jungle. 

Jyn exits the ship last, several porgs clinging to her shoulder. 

“I wasn’t going to just let them eat their way through our only ship!” she says defensively.

“I wasn’t going to comment.”

Jyn glances around at the small clearing, taking in the dense trees around them. Clearing space for a proper headquarter and ships alone would take a few weeks. She sighs, shedding her borrowed jacket. Tendrils of hair stick to her temple.

“At least it feels like home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you couldn't tell, love me an em dash. This was a bit of bridge chapter, but we'll be back with more plot (is it plot? movement anyway) next few chapters!
> 
> Also yes, Jyn's stash of caf beans are chocolate covered coffee beans. They're addictive.


	9. never slow down, you never grow old

She’s not technically grounded. No one had called her to High Command to either reprimand or commend her. No one has called for her at all.

She assumes she’ll have to bite the bullet and join Taluka’s squad, the prat, given that her own is either dead, injured or missing in action, but the order never comes. She wonders how much of that has to do with Kes’s visit from Senator Mothma. Even Draven hasn’t nagged her for her mission report.

She feels listless.

The high of her time spent with Cassian had already worn off. She’d walked him to the hanger and waved him off feeling like some weepy holodrama war wife even though she sees him off every time she’s on base. As if her face screamed ‘we just crossed a line and there’s no going back!’, even though her presence wasn’t odd or noteworthy.

He’d given her a bone crushing hug, squeezed her hand and left with a plea for her to avoid seriously injury.

No squad, no missions and no Cassian leaves her with limited options to occupy her time.

She could tire herself out in the gym, maybe even convince the Princess to train with her but that likely would result in her violating Cassian’s sole request.

Which leaves two options. 

One, bother Bodhi who would no doubt make her feel better but who also would likely do so at the expense of his own job. 

Two, bother Kes, who’s laid up in the medbay and can’t escape.

She nicks a pack of sabacc cards and the half empty bottle of her bunk mate’s jet fuel she’s been slowly been drinking every night and heads for the medbay.

—

The Ajan Kloss base cobbles together slowly. The base’s bare bones go up easy enough— a lightsaber really speeds things along, with Finn slicing and Rey lifting (after two days, Leia bans anyone other than BeeBee-Ate from working with the pair, even the most seasoned rebel prone to gawking). 

Reacquiring their technological capacity, however, proves a sticking point. Which brings Jyn to the overgrown airfield.

“This is ridiculous. This is, what, a quarter of our command for a _shopping_ trip?”

“Technically, less than that. You still outrank Captain Dameron here,” Cassian reminds her cheerfully. The look she shoots him could freeze Mustafar. 

“Both of you have bounties on your head that could fund the Resistance twice.”

“As a wise woman once said, we all have bounties on our heads, we’re in rebellion.”

“Sucking up to me isn’t going to restore your rank, Captain,” Leia says, approaching the group. She’s still relying heavily on her cane but the bandaging on her head has disappeared. Poe shrugs.

“Worth the try, General”

Jyn continues her desperate line of reasoning. “General, bounties aside, they’re bound to be recognized. They’re both flagged in First Order records, one patrol stop is all it takes.”

Cassias, the bastard, has the audacity to laugh.

“We’re in the Outer Rim, Jyn, not Corsucrant. We’ll blend in. If we keep our heads down, no one will look twice,” he says, hunching his shoulders and resting a hand on one of Poe’s. “Just a nomadic father and son, looking for work.”

She knows he’s right, but she also knows she doesn’t want to let him out of her sight again.

“Leia...”

“You’re a smart woman, you know we need that tech, otherwise we’re just sitting waiting to be slaughtered,” she says. Jyn sighs, defeated. 

“One week.”

“One week,” Leia agrees. “May the Force be with you.”

Poe fires off a sloppy salute and follows Cassian up into the battered old shuttle, one of the only two ships that had found their way back to the Resistance in the aftermath of a Crait.

"You've turned into a worrier in your old age," Leia notes as they watch the craft take off.

"Yeah well, that's what happens when you stick around long enough to care about people."

"I have a project that might help distract you if you're interested."

"Does it involve beating the shit out of something? Because that usually does the trick."

Leia smiles knowingly. "In a way."

—

They’re a little more than a little drunk. She certainly is anyway, Kes usually has a better sabacc face even when completely blasted. It's incredibly annoying, her and Solo always agree on that point. She wishes he were here to back her up.

If Bodhi or the med droids see them they’ll definitely be on the other end of a scolding about mixing alcohol and whatever cocktail of drugs Kes is hopped up on. 

Shara will cuss them out, if only because she desperately wants to join in-- Baby Dameron is, unfortunately, still several weeks away.

However, since it’s barely noon on base they have several hours before they have to face the music. 

“Worst street meat you’ve had?”

“Deep fried womp rat. Spent three days over the toilet and missed my ride. I only ate powdered veg-protein an entire year after that.”

"Worst injury?” 

“Fresh recruit, nearly blew myself up. Short fuse.”

“Scarif.”

“Erso, that’s _always_ gonna win.”

She wriggled the bottle in front of his face. “Drink up.”

Their drinking games dissolves quickly after two more rounds. Neither of them are lightweights but even they have their limitations. Jyn slouches further into the rigid chair she'd stolen.

"I'm gonna become a farmer," Kes declares, apropos nothing. "Build me, Shara and the kid a little house when this is all over. Grow my own food. Go off the grid."

"That's a bold assumption, that there's an end."

Kes turns his head toward her. "If there isn't then what's the point. We keep killing each other until there's no one left in the galaxy?"

"Basically."

Kes props himself up on an eyebrow, eyebrows furrowing. "Seriously, Erso, you've never thought about a future without all this?"

"I never had a past without all this," she counters. "Thought I'd die all guts and glory like a true Partisan-- that's what Saw always said when we lost anyone. A true Partisan."

"Yeah, but you're not some child extremist anymore-- I just call it like I see it," he says at her glare. He's not wrong, bomb making isn't considered a gift to most ten year olds, even in some of the worst corners of the galaxy. Then again, that skill has kept her alive more than once so maybe it should be.

"Well, then I thought I'd die in Wobani, but you all busted me out. And then I thought maybe on Scarif, when Cassian and I made it to the ocean, that would have been okay."

Kes is looking at her concerned. She rarely talks about what happened on Scarif, before Bodhi found them. The green glow on the horizon and Cassian's face buried in her neck.

Kes is one of her closest friends--few friends, if she's honest-- but he doesn't really get it, death as an accepted outcome. To his credit, it makes him a good soldier. He realizes it's a _likely_ outcome, just doesn't accept it.

Cassian would get it but he's off... somewhere. Some deeply buried part of her brain pangs and her subconscious registers as 'missing him', in a way that's vital, not simply fondness. Like a part of her soul been torn. Her active conscious scowls and dismisses the notion-- her subsconsious can be a poetic prat when it's liquoured up.

"Anyway, I keep living and everyone else keeps dying."  
Deflection. Leia hates it, Bodhi tolerates it, Cassian allows it. Kes tries to break through regardless.

"Jyn..."

"I think Baze and Chirrut definitely had plans, together. Maybe even Kaytoo, except I don't know if droids really plan for the future like we do. I could probably ask Cassian. Do you think Melshi had plans, for after?"

"I--" Kes looks stricken.

"Don't lie to me."

"Yeah, I think he did."

"What was it?"

"His aunt owns a restaurant on some Mid-Rim planet. Said he'd take it over maybe, start a family."

Jyn stares as if he's just grown 10 more heads. "He was a terrible cook."

Kes grants a ghost of a smile that doesn’t quite wash away the concern in his eyes. "He really was."

Jyn reaches down next to her chair, uncorking the bottle. "To terrible cooks!"

Kes lifts his own cup from his bedside. "Terrible cooks," he agrees, drinking deeply.

Jyn startles awake several hours later to Bodhi leaning over her. 

"C'mon Jyn, let's get you back to your quarters."

"Thanks, Bodhi," Kes says. She tries to glare at him but even after her nap she still feels fuzzy.

"Traitor," she says, sticking her tongue out. Kes laughs. 

"Water," he says shaking his cup instead of apologizing. "Next time I see you you better have come up with a plan."

She flips him off.

"Ohhhhkay," Bodhi says, ushering her out the door. "Let's get you to bed."

She can barely stand up straight and Bodhi's gait is always slightly off. They make an awkward pair, limping down the narrow hallways. Wind up, stutter, stumble. Wind up, stutter, stumble.

"Bodhi, do you have plans?" she asks when they finally make it to her bunk.

"For?"

"Y'know, the future," she says as if it were obvious. 

"Oh, I don't know. I think it'd be nice to go back to Jedha--after everything. Maybe I can help it get back on it's feet."

Her heart warms, because of course Bodhi is a Good Person, after everything. He could be so bitter and cold, like her, and yet.

"Do you think Cassian has plans?" she asks softly. She's not entirely sure why she feels afraid of the answer. Bodhi looks at her pityingly. 

"I think you and Cassian are pretty similar. Maybe you should ask him about his plans."

There's something knowing about his tone that sets her on edge.

"If he comes back maybe I will," she mumbles, turning over into her pillow.

"He'll be back," Bodhi promises, untucking the military corners of her bunk and pulling the blanket up. "Sleep well Jyn."

—  
  


He shouldn't have been surprised to see Jyn at the center of the huge ring of rebels, truncheons in hand. Half the circle whoops and hollers as he pushes his way to the front.

He is mildly surprised to see Finn pushing himself to his feet, staff knocked five feet away, looking a little shocked. Poe squeezes his arm as he retreats to the crowd. Cassian smiles to himself.

 _Really had to bruise the poor kid's ego, didn't you?_ he thinks.

"So, as you can see, it is not the size of your opponent that matters," Jyn says to the crowd, hooking her truncheons to her belt, and clasping her hands loosely behind her back.

She's dressed in her uniform pants and sweat drenched sleeveless top, her map of scars on display. Her hair is pulled into a tight braid, rather than her usual bun. She spots him in the crowd and shoots him a wink.

She's powerful and comfortable and clearly at home, even on a particularly makeshift training mat. It takes his breath away.

"Hey Major Erso we got your next contender!" Snap Wexley bellows across from him. He's standing shoulder to shoulder with the rest of Black Squadron, who'd landed a few days before to much celebration, admittedly more for their X-Wings than their crew. The ship inventory was growing slowly, but at least now it was growing.

"Yeah Commander, man up," Jess Pava needles, pushing Poe in front of her. Leia restored him to his previous position the same day his squadron had returned, supposedly on the grounds of the good work he and Cassian did tracking down gear. Cassian thinks Leia just has a soft spot she's unwilling to admit, allowing him to save face in front of the people's who's respect he craves most.  
(Save Leia herself of course, but that ship had flown on the bridge of the Raddus.)

"I think I've done my fair share of training," Poe says, "Maybe I should give someone newer the chance, Rey, you ready?"  
"Damn, right under the AT-AT," Finn says to Poe, earning him an approving slap on the back from Pava. Rey gives Poe a look that even Cassian can't quite discern.

"I don't think we're ever too old to practice, right Commander?" Jyn interrupts his thought process. From her seat in the corner, Cassian sees Leia smile.

Poe sighs, shucking off his vest and stepping out to the center. 

"Twenty credits on the Major!" Jess shouts. 

"I'm with Lieutenant Pava," Finn says, still rubbing his shoulder.

"Don't worry Commander, I got your back," Snap assures him. 

"That doesn't reassure me, Snap."

_"She did warn him," Cassian told Kes as they stood on the Dameron's porch, watching Jyn chase down Poe. Kes snickered._

_"Oh, I know, I take full responsibility for this. But honestly it was worth it."_

_Jyn tackled Poe to the ground._

_"Jyn, you're gonna dirty my uniform!"_

_"You can explain to the NRDF that you thought being a smart ass was more important than any uniform code."_

_"I got it okay! Just Jyn, not Aunty, ow! I got it!."_

_Jyn let him off the ground. "Out here trying to make me sound old," she muttered, hauling him to his feet._

Poe manages to just break his fall as his feet are swept out from underneath him.

“Always a cheat.”

“There’s no such thing as cheating in a fist fight,” Jyn answers, announcing it loud enough for the gathered crowd to hear. Finn looks delighted. Rey looks impressed. “If your opponent wants to kill you, they’re not going to respect any rules.”  
Poe gives a lighthearted grumble, hamming it up for the gathered audience as he snatches his vest back from Snap, who's quickly relieved of his wagered credits by Pava.

Cassian makes his way over to Leia as the crowd starts to disperse. Black Squadron lingers, throwing their best verbal jabs among one another in rapidfire. Finn stands on the edge of the group, wanting to be included but not wanting to intrude. 

"Rey? Major Erso?" Leia calls. Rey scurries over. Jyn stretches back up from her relaxed position on the ground like a lothcat. 

"I know Commander Dameron threw your name out in something of an evasive manuveur, but even at his most flippant he's sometimes right," Leia says. Jyn snorts, disbelieving. "Major Erso, if you're up for a final round, you and Rey should hit the mat. Let us get a baseline on every new recruit."

"Is that really--" Cassian starts. Jyn glares. He knows she can handle herself but she also doesn't know when to stop. 

"A baseline?" Rey says flatly. 

"Well, in case you haven't noticed we're somewhat lacking in training sims. But we do have Jyn." Leia responds. Rey looks embarrassed and startles when Jyn claps her hands together.

"Fists or sticks? Lightsabers not included," she jokes. Rey picks up the staff Finn had discarded earlier and Jyn nods approvingly, unclasping her truncheons.

On the far side of the mat, Rose Tico has wobbled her way over to Finn and points with a crutch to the pair of woman. Finn then in turn whispers to Jess who whispers to Kare who whispers to Snap and quickly, the remnants of the earlier crowd are linedup along the edge.

Cassian sighs, taking a seat next to Leia.

"Is this really necessary"

"She's a grown woman, Andor."

"She's a sun, she won't stop until she burns herself out."

Leia barely has the word "go" out of her mouth before Jyn launches herself at the younger woman, truncheons crossed like a pair of scissors, colliding between Rey's grasped hands and spinning.

Or, that's what would have happened, had Rey not neatly dropped one hand and spun away coming back together, spinning her staff on her own willpower, rather than Jyn's force. 

Jyn raises an eyebrow. Rey's feet set. 

They collide with ferocity, ebbing and flowing against the other's attack.

"Force-- there's two of them."

Rey's fighting style is a mirror of Jyn's, perhaps more raw but equally as scrappy with a disregard for any conventional wisdom. 

Finn's combat skill was braced by a lifetime of Imperial instruction, his own influenced by a limetime with the Alliance. Poe was handy with a blaster, his father's influence as well as Leia's, but hand to hand he found himself leaning on his NRDF training.

Rey fought like she needed to survive, just like Jyn had when he first saw her in that dusty   
Jedhan alley. Jyn clearly knows it and it's driving her crazy, her strikes becoming wilder with each passing moment.

She catches a lucky break, advancing on Rey when she steps wrong and stumbles. Jyn reaches low with her right arm to swipe at her legs and Rey hits mat, raising her staff and Jyn swings down with her truncheons.

And suddenly, it's Jyn flat on her ass, eyes wide, at the feet of a stunned Black Squadron who are quiet for once in their lives. Rose looks concerned while Poe is staring at Rey with the same awed look he'd had on Crait. Cassian had jumped to his feet when Jyn flew through the air but when he glances at Leia she looks unsurprised.

Rey drops the staff as if it burned her, running over to Jyn, apologies pouring from her. Poe helps pull Jyn to her feet.

"Jyn, I'm so sorry!"

Jyn dusts off her hands, smiling wrly. "It was a cheap move," she says. Rey looks devestated. "But I would've done the same thing."

Relief floods Rey's features.

"I think that's enough training for one day," Leia says brightly. 

Jyn's sarcasm is instantaneous. "Oh sure, now." 

"Major Erso, congrats on your new pupil."

—

Bodhi busts into Kes’s room out of breath, orange flight suit covered in grease and doubles over with his hands on his knees.

“Sh.. Shara.”

Kes tenses, lowering his sabacc hand. “What? Is she okay? What happened?!”

“Ba... baby,” he wheezes. "Shara's having the baby."

Kes nearly leaps out of the bed and a med droid whizzes in. 

"Patient Dameron, you have have not been cleared for release."

"I'm clearing myself," Kes says, struggling to a sitting position, "my wife is on the otherside of this bay having our kid that's good enough for me."

The heart monitor next to him is beeping rapidly. Jyn waves Bodhi out of the room. 

"We'll meet you there.”

"Sergeant Erso, Sergeant Dameron is not cleared for release. He may cause himself more harm. If he does not settle down I will have to sedate him."

Jyn rests a firm hand on his shoulder, applying just enough pressure that he stops sturggling momentarily.

"Of course 2-1B. But can you please ensure that Sergeant Dameron gets regular updates on Lieutenant Bey?"

The droid gives a stilted nod and glides out of the room.

"Erso-" Kes starts. She cuts him off.

"Obviously we're going to see Shara, Dameron. Be cool for like five minutes okay?"

Sneaking him out takes longer than expected, rearranging him into a nicked hoverchair without setting off any alarms and tucking away the various tubes and wires. She stuffs extra pillows under the blanket on his bed in roughly a Kes sized shape.

“I’m definitely taller than that.”

“I hate to break it to you, you’re really not.”

When they make make it to Shara's room, it turns out they didn't need to rush at all.

Bodhi ushers them in, "He's taking his time," he jokes.

"Definitely yours," Shara grumbles. "Stubborn bastard." Kes looks torn between pity and laughter.

The nurse looks surprised by the new visitors, but other than a long glance at Kes says nothing.

Shara goes to grab for her husband before taking note of all the wires and tubes. “Of all the times for you nearly die it’s when I want to hurt you,” she grits out. Her eyes screw shut through another contraction. 

Jyn holds out her hand. 

“Take it."

Shara stares at her like she’d just grown a lekku. She raises her outstretched palm higher. 

"You can try but I promise you won’t hurt me.”

Shara latches on with a grip tight enough Jyn almost takes back her words.

_Thank you,_ Kes mouths from the other side of the room. 

This isn't Jyn's first time around childbirth-- the first time she was 14 and one of the Partisans had gotten knocked up. Saw chewed the woman out, sent mother and child on their way soon as she gave birth. Jyn snuck out the next morning for some back alley contraceptive that made her bleed so bad for days she thought she might be dying. Another time she the only one at an Outer Rim inn when the owner's water broke. Turns out, Weequay labors are much shorter than humans but luckily, similar enough for Jyn to catch the baby when it came well before the midwife.

Bodhi on the otherhand, makes himself scarce, returning only once with a bottle of Shara's favorite juice.

Kes also looks like he'd like to escape, torn between distraught his wife is in pain and faint when the nurse narrates the birth, nine hours later.

Poe Dameron is born just after 20:00, ship time, with a shock of dark hair and Shara finally releases Jyn's hand to hold her son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, this is half of the chapter I intended to post but the second half is fighting with me. But on the brightside you get get an earlier update. Yay! (hopefully that's a yay!)


End file.
